


Laudare

by solitariusvirtus, tenten_d



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenten_d/pseuds/tenten_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn't come to save souls or to right wrongs. She hadn't come seeking affection. It was not her wish to win hearts or break hearts or even to hold hearts. What she wanted was far simpler than that, more essential to the soul, thus even harder to achieve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ada Carlisle was not a brave woman. Surely not. Had she been a brave woman she would have stood up to her father's edict. She would have begged him to reconsider. If Ada had been a compelling sort of girl, she would have persuaded her father to allow her to stay. She would have convinced him that she did not want to be sent off to her uncle. Anything really to remain with baby Thomas. Yet she'd kept quiet as her father ordered her to pack her things.

"May I say goodbye to my brother, father?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the ground so he wouldn't see her tears. An irritable old knight, Ada's father would be sure to discipline her in the event that she started acting like a spoiled child.

He nodded to show his consent and that was all Ada needed. She raced to the nursery, lifting her skirts to gain speed. Even from the outside she could hear him crying. Did he know what was happening? Did he know that they were forcing her to leave him? Ada entered the room. A knot formed in her throat at the sight of Thomas, with his short brown hair and pudgy, bright skin. "You may give him to me, Mary."

Mary, God bless her eyes, hurried to do as Ada bid. She placed little Thomas in her arms, and then retreated back near the hearth. Ada stared down at him, squealing. Another wave of tears attacked her. "Has he been fed?" she asked gently. At the servant's nod, Ada managed a small smile. "Good, he is to be taken care of as well as a prince. Do you hear me, Mary? Take care of him." Thomas had yet to stop fussing. Ada gave him a tip of her finger. "I love you, little Thomas. I love you." Oh, why were they so cruel? Why did they not let her stay? Mother had died birthing Thomas. He had no one but her. Father wouldn't look after him, Ada knew. It was a woman's work.

"There, now, m' lady," Mary tried to console her. "We'll make sure he misses nothing, we will. I'll take care of the lad myself, I promise."

Wiping her tears away, Ada smiled gratefully at Mary. "I'm sure you shall do a fine job of it, Mary. Thank you." She grew quiet for a little while, then raised her head. "Mary, I'll take Tommy to sleep with me, you may take him on the morrow after I am gone. I'll be leaving before dawn."

Just as said, Ada took Thomas to her rooms and set him on her large bed. Surprisingly enough, he fell asleep without much resistance, and Ada started packing her coffers. Perhaps the servants would tell him stories of mother and her. Perhaps he would grow knowing he was loved.

When she was done the sun has set. Ada knelt next to the bed and went about her usual prayer. She didn't dare ask God what waited her in Nottingham. If her uncle was anything like her father, then she was only trading one jailor for another. The rest of the night she spent watching Tommy sleep. Her father needn't know that she would have rather run away with the boy and pretend to be the mother. Lord help her, but she would have done that had she thought she actually stood a change.

Alas, Ada was not so foolish as to think a woman who had never worked a day in her entire life, a woman who knew little but her father's estate would be able to survive on her own out there. She would only make her brother's life worse. Instead she kissed the babe's forehead and tried not to weep at the hollowness in her heart.

The dawn came along with heavy fog rolling in. Ada hadn't slept a wink, so when Mary came knocking on her door, she bid her enter. Thomas was sleeping peacefully. "Quiet now, Mary," Ada whispered. "Have him brought to his chambers."

Mere moments later it was her father that came. Ada pulled one of her travel dresses, a thick, brown frock over her head and tied the middle with a golden rope. She inclined her head towards her father, and waited for him to speak.

"I trust you have gathered everything you may have need of, daughter." His cold, cold eyes pinned her to her spot. He came closer to her, his steps measured. Raising his hand, he pulled hers to him, palm upwards, and placed a heavy bag in it. "Make me proud." He leaned in and kisses Ada's forehead, then her cheeks.

Her father wasn't a bad man, not at all. By all accounts he was a brave, moral man. But his temper, Ada had always feared his temper. He was easily provoked, and heavy of hand when insulted or angered. Ada herself had been on the receiving end of his admonishments more than once. Now, in this moment when he held her, her heart thumped though; it was not out of fear. She felt protected. Ada had always found it strange that she could both fear and love a man with such fervour. Parting was a hard thing.

"I shall miss you, father. May God keep you and Thomas in good health." This she'd murmured into his chest, her eyes filling with unshed tears. It seemed like she had transformed into some sort of gray cloud, ready to rain down at the softest gust of wind.

"I have something else for you," her father said, pulling the object out of his pocket.

"Mother's cross," Ada stated, a bit stunned. Father had kept it on himself at all times since mother's death. "You cannot mean for me to have it, father."

To her neck he bound the lock, the silver cross settling against her chest. Her father said nothing more. He helped her out of her room and down the stairs and into the carriage that would take her to Nottingham. Ada waited until the curtains had been drawn before she started crying in earnest. Now there was no going back. She had left father, and Thomas and everything else she had ever known.

NottinghamTown was a few days journey away. At a languorous pace one might even take a whole week to reach it. Yet, as per her father's orders, Ada was to make no stops. Glad for this small mercy, the daughter was only too pleased to lock herself inside her carriage and not speak to anyone. She feared that if she allowed herself to step outside, she would turn around and run back to her father's manor. That couldn't be allowed to happen. He would be furious with her.

So, for days on end, Ada kept to herself, her only company a bottle of water and a few crusts of bread. She wouldn't have been able to eat anything else anyway. Her mother's cross dangled from her neck, the cold, shiny metal a glimmer of light against her dark clothing. Ada had always loved her mother's necklace. She fingered the trinket, taking comfort in its familiarity. Perhaps things would turn out fine, she considered. Her uncle might even find her a husband. Ada only wanted a good man willing to give her a family.

Love was not a part of her equation. As a mature, down-to-earth sort of maiden, she understood that a good marriage was more than fleeting attraction. Her parents hadn't been mad about one another, and still theirs had been a successful union. For certainly, they cared about one another, but they weren't given to grand gestures or the like. Ada thought that she could be satisfied with something like that. Her husband needed only to make a bit of room for her in his life. Not much, Ada was by her very nature a person that didn't take up much space. She preferred to keep to her corner and observe the world.

Her father had often lamented the fact that she hadn't been born a man. He would tell her that it was a pity her skills were never to be put to use. "You are a good reader of people." Ada didn't think it was particularly true, but she didn't dissuade her father from believing what he would. She didn't hold herself a wit, or superior to all others. Yet she knew that she did have certain advantages.

Indeed, unlike others of her peers, she had a fondness for learning. It was one of the whims her father approved of, and even encouraged. He'd brought scholars to his halls so his daughter may learn from them, philosophers and man of the clergy. Why, sometimes she even had the pleasure of encountering poets. She would certainly miss that.

Would her uncle allow such activities? Ada doubted he would. Most men preferred a woman incapable of questioning them. She'd hear her father's friends complain about that once. "Whyever do you allow this nonsense to go on, sir? It will help her none to quote Cato or Plato in the marriage bed." Ada had been so mad then, she had almost rushed out of the hall. Only her father's stare had stopped her from acting like a senseless child.

Lucky for her, these thought kept her occupied until she reached her destination. "NottinghamTown, my lady," one of the guards called to her. Ada pushed the curtains away, and gave the man permission to help her down.

She looked upon the open gate and the walls of stone. It seemed a bleak place to her. All those hidden corners she couldn't see scared her. There was something ominous about this place. Ada took a deep breath, indecision churning in her stomach. She could run away. The Lord knew, she could climb atop a horse and run far, far away from this wretched place.

Before she could make her decision, her uncle was there to greet her though. "My niece," he spoke with faux affection, coming her way rather like hawk. Ada had never seen the man in her life. But she knew him by his resemblance to her father. Still, there was no need for him to act quite so close. "I hope your journey was an easy one."

Falling into a proper curtsy, Ada murmured some polite reply or another, making sure to keep her eyes downcast. She wouldn't show him her distress. Searching her cloak, she came upon a letter she had to give to him. "Sir, I am grateful for your concern. My father wanted you to have this." She handed him the letter with a fluid movement. Only then did she dare to look up.

Guards surrounded her uncle. Ada supposed she should not have been surprised. He was the Sheriff. The man read her father's words, his lips pursing from time to time. Ada waited patiently, her hand clasped together in front of her. Waiting for a particularly hard thing for her to do.

Finishing the letter, Vaisey looked upon his niece once more. "You mother has died?" It was quite like he could not believe his eyes. "Has she really died?"

Ada nodded her head slowly. "Unfortunately, she did. It was childbed fever." A woman's worst nightmare, Ada considered. "Did you know her well, sir?"

Vaisey nodded in return. "Once. I knew her quite well once, many years ago." Then, as if remembering something, his head snapped up. "Enough of that. You must be hungry and tired after your journey. Come, sit and my table and eat with me."

"You are most gracious, sir." Ada followed behind him.

As he'd said, food was waiting on the table for them. Wasting no time, the young woman sat down, and served herself from the roasted rabbit and the delicious looking mutton. Her uncle's eyes would sometimes linger upon her. There weren't any long looks, nothing to signal anything but passing interest.

"You look a lot like you mother," the Sheriff remarked at some point, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"So I've been told," Ada agreed. In fact, it was many times that she'd been told that she was her mother's spitting image.

"Do you miss her?" Ah, such questions always inspired melancholy within Ada's chest. The man started eating again nonchalantly.

"Yes, and I suppose I shall for a long time." Her mother's death had been hard blow.

For the remainder of the meal, the Sheriff did not speak again. Ada was quite fine with that. She wasn't the sort that needed to fill the silence in order to feel comfort. Left to her own device, she looked about the room while chewing on the meat. It was a sparsely decorated hall. Somehow it reminded her of home, only with a bleaker outlook. Home had been warm, where this hall was cold. Silently, the girl wondered if it was such a lifeless place all the time. Her father's hall always had some guests. With a dainty shrug she pushed the thought away. Who was she to judge?

Nearly done with her food, Ada too cleansed her hands as the last bite of meat went down her throat. A goblet had been placed before her. Hoping that it would be water and not wine, Ada lifted it and put it to her lips. Just as the liquid sloshed against her lips, the door burst open.

Out of habit, she climbed to her feet, setting the cup down. Curios to see what the interruption was, Ada dared a look at the door. Her uncle looked bored. "Ah, Gisbourne. Finally, I thought I would be waiting until my bones turned to dust." Suddenly his niece held little importance.

The man he'd called Gisbourne didn't pay her any mind. Thus Ada was obliged to keep silent and unnoticed. She melted prettily in the background, felling like she was intruding. It was that sort of feeling that left her both confused and annoyed. What did it matter that she was overlooked? She was a woman, she should have been used to it by now.

"How rude of me!" Vaisey sudden exclamation broke through Ada's train of thoughts. She looked up towards the man. "My dear, this is Guy of Gisbourne, he hold Locksley for me."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir." Ada stared at him unabashedly for the first time. Oh, and how she was struck. He looked like some sort of demon, mighty and powerful and too much for her eyes. He was cruelly handsome, with enchanting blue eyes and fine, sharp features. Ada tore her gaze away, and willed her heart to stop beating so loudly. "Gisbourne, my niece, lady Ada of Carlisle."

"My lady." He said the title with little care, yet still proper. Of course he had no regard for her. Ada hadn't thought he would. Yet the pang in her stomach irritated that rational part of her. This was no poem of love; her life was no poem. Or if it was, she rather though it a grim one of souls lost and difficulty of breathing.

"I know you will excuse us, my dear," the Sheriff addressed her, his hand making a dismissive move. "The servants will show you to your quarters. Tell him if you have need of anything, and it shall be provided for you."

Removing herself from her uncle's presence, Ada followed the servants walking in front of her. Her rooms had a view to the interior court. It was rather nice, even if all she got to see was dust and stone. At least she had a balcony. Her old rooms had no such splendid addition. Ada traced her fingers against the sturdy stone and sighed. There were times when she wished she'd been born a simple woman, one without understanding of the world. It would have hurt less. Did they not say that ignorance was bliss?

"Here starts my new life," Ada said to the empty air, always a good listener. She sat down upon the bed. "Holy Ghost, let me not reach too high. Keep me grounded." Hybris, Ada let her thoughts run free, hybris was the downfall of many. How could they think to reach for the starts and not expect to fall? Smothering any trace of it within her, the young woman took her mother's cross between her fingers. She played with the thin chain in hopes that the storm within her would calm down.

Unwillingly she found herself thinking of the man she'd met in her uncle's hall. It should not be allowed to a mortal to look like that. Greek statues belonged in temples, not among people. A bitter laughter spilled from between her lips. Oh, she knew what hopes her heart was entertaining. Like any woman with wit, she shooed Cupid away with an angry gesture. No, she wouldn't fall in this trap. Not even one as young as her could be tricked so easily.

A handsome face did not make one the perfect recipient of romantic fantasy. And yet, his eyes had been blue, too blue and penetrating. He had looked right through her, and her heart had jumped right out of her chest and into his hands. Ada shook her head. What was wrong with her? She did not even know him. Surely, surely, sentiment could be subdued by a clinical analysis of what had transpired. She refused to allow herself to sink to the level of a scullery maid infatuated with the unattainable lord of the manor. She knew her limits, and she wasn't about to exceed them.

One fist against her bothersome heart, Ada ordered herself to quit while she was ahead. "Dwelling on such matters will help you none," she told herself, her voice surprisingly firm. "You know this, silly girl. You needn't throw your hand into the fire to know it burns." But the fire was already scorching her, flames bright and unforgettable.


	2. Chapter 2

The paper trembled in her hands. Ada sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes going over her father's words again. "I'm a pawn," she whispered, still not quite believing it. She'd thought that maybe her father cared after all, that he had sent her to her uncle for her own good. But of course that was not the case.

A long time ago a master of politics had come into her father's halls. Ada hadn't been older than two-and-ten at the time. But her father had allowed her to discuss with the man, and she'd been taught amongst other things that the world was a board of chess. Some were pawns, other were players. The strong dictated the movements of the weak, the bright those of the foolish, and so on. He'd warned her that true power corrupted, that it was a poison slower than any other, but just as sure to kill. "My dear girl," he had warned her, "trust completely only yourself. All others will seek to play you. They will lie and cheat and you will be the one to suffer if you do not avoid the." More the fool her! She hadn't thought her own father would do this to her.

"That must be a very lonely existence, magister," she had replied, absently playing with a flower. "How can one live without trusting anyone? That would mean one lacked friendship and love, and in the end, he would have no contact with other; no true contact." Dark brown eyes had turned towards the elder. "Aristotle teaches us that the human being is zoon politikon in Politics. Without his fellows he becomes something other than human. Gods do not need companionship, beasts do not need companionship. But man, man must have others to survive."

"That is true, yes," he had agreed, stroking his beard. "But tell me this, do you think yourself safe from the cunning of others just because you are a woman?" He had smiled sadly at her. "With such an outlook on this existence, you will be torn apart." She had shrugged, her child's mind not understanding the true value of his lesson. Trust was best used in small measures. That she was learning now, that hard way.

Distressed she read the contents of the letter again, hoping that by some miracle she would notice a chance. Of course, that did not happen. It was all as before. Her father's orders were clear. She was to find what her uncle planned to do and report back to him. England would not be thrown into chaos if he could prevent it.

Now she had her chance to prove that all those lessons hadn't been in vain. Now she could show to her father that he'd raised a daughter worthy of his praise. Yet at what price? Her father's voice ringed in her head, "If he should prove himself a serpent, then have a small amount of the powder I've sent you mixed in his drink."

The particular powder he had sent hidden in different jewels would make one look like he had died of a lung illness. It acted like a common cold, blocking the lungs, slowly asphyxiating the victim. It was a cleaver, clever trick. Ada stared in horror at her vanity table. She was to become a murderer? Again, her father spoke in her mind, "It is better to sacrifice one man rather than have hundreds die."

The rest of his instruction involved a lot of caution. If she was caught she risked hanging before the whole of Nottingham. For the love of God, how could her father think it was a good idea to allow his shy, reclusive daughter to attempt an assassination on her own?

"I have polished you over the years, daughter, and I a sure you will not disappoint me or England." So he'd written to her. Ada crumpled the letter in her fist. She had to get rid of it. While throwing the accusing evidence in the fire, she thought her father had gone brilliantly about the whole plan. Oh, he had her convinced that he would allow her to her uncle's residence, he had used her jewellery, and he had hidden the incriminating letter inside the folds of another, more normal looking, missive. "Should you refuse me daughter, the death of many will be on your conscience."

Brilliant strategy of persuasion, that. She was to carry out the plan despite everything within her screaming at her to stop. Why did her father seem to think that because she spoke little, she could convince these sly men that she was an innocent daisy, when in fact the thorns on her rose stem waited for the blood that was sure to be spilled upon the first touch? Her fate was sealed either way. Between killing hundreds, or one single person, of course she would choose the lesser evil. Father knew her, and that was her downfall.

But first, she needed to see if, by any chance, her uncle was innocent. It was a possibility. Or so Ada dared to hope. Surely, he was a rational man. He wouldn't plan anything resembling treason. Would he? Ada paced the length of her room. She needed to get away for a little while. A walk outside would do her good. But would she even be allowed out now that the dark had fallen?

Coming to a halt, the young woman searched her mind for a solution. She hurried to her trunk and started searching her things. She found something that might work, and pulled the garment out. It was a dark dress, perfect for blending into the shadows. Coupled with her cloak, it should help her make a successful escape. Ada put on the clothes with all due haste.

Opening the door and stepping out was easy. Even if the old wood creaked, Ada knew that the guards were too far to hear anything. She glued herself to the wall, stepping inside the shadow. One hand traced the stone so she wouldn't stray, and her feet took rapid steps across the tiled floor. Ada hurried down into the kitchens, knowing that her only chance was to exit through the servants' door there. Otherwise one of the guards was sure to see her.

Fortunately for her, none if the guards seemed adamant to do a good job, or else she would have surely met at least one soldier. As it was, she passed them, as quietly as she could, while they were playing some sort of game.

Once out she hurried along the main road. The gates were kept unlocked even at night. Ada found it strange, but she didn't mind it as it helped her cause. Her big test was just around the corner. There was a couple of soldiers posted at the gates too. Somehow she would have to convince them she was a villager coming from her work in the castle.

"Halt! Who goes there?" a man's voice called to her. Adad froze. She hated the fact that she hadn't been born with an ounce of bravery inside of her.

"Just me," she said in the smallest voice she could produce. "Been at the castle to do the cooking. Had to stay until late." She hoped from the bottom of her heart that it would work. Dear God, what if she got caught? Her uncle would ask questions and Ada had poor skills as a liar. They were nonexistent in a direct confrontation.

A man with a torch came closer to her, yet not close enough to properly distinguish her features, she hoped. "You are Lydia's daughter, aren't you?" Ada nodded, desperately grasping to those words as her ticket to salvation. "Thought so. Come on the, off you go."

Thanking her lucky star, Ada walked past the man, imitating the tired gait of the scullery maids she had seen around. It was auspicious as far as starts went. A nice walk around the village should do the trick. Why, even a few minutes in the solitude provided by the Sherwood Forest would be helpful. In an almost gleeful manner, Ada laughed softly behind her hand. Those guards had been so easy to deceive. Of course, much of it had been the cover of the dark and chance. But Ada did think her own idea had its own share of importance. One could not be brilliant in the absence of ideas. "Alas, I could have been a thief making my way out with the prey and they wouldn't have known."

Tall weeds brushed against the back of her hands and Ada had to smile. Underneath the moon everything looked like a frozen wonderland pulled out of those elegiac poems her father liked to read by the fire. A lover of art, Ada considered. She too had been born with that passion for the beautiful. In fact, while her shell, brittle covering of her eternal soul, looked the very image of her mother, her soul and mind were more inclined towards the example her father set. That might have been due to the many years invested in her upbringing, that she could not deny.

Oh, what she wouldn't give to live in those verses. As a little girl she had often ran to her father and sat at his feet, in those cold nights when the skies thundered and rained down upon the land, he would pretend he hadn't seen her, and then with a grave voice he would read out of the scrolls. Ada had seen the works of the giants, towering walls of strong red brick with vines attacking themselves desperately to their surface. She had seen instead of green meadows outside the window, endless deserts of cold snow. She had seen the world become gray before her very eyes. And sometimes she would even catch a glimpse of the warrior, lost in his desperation, fighting for his life in the wild.

Priest Jacob, who had looked after the parish at home, had complained when he'd learned of those late night activities. "Just think, my lord. You are filling the young one's mind with pagan words. You are corrupting her innocent soul." Ada hadn't been too concerned about her soul, though she did believe in God. The Priest had tried many times to warn her of the potential dangers of reading the Greek philosophers and pagan poetry. But the most furious he'd been when she received the words of Arabic philosophy through one of the scholars her father had invited. "It is not for a woman to be so immersed in such pursuits. I will pray for your soul."

All her life, people had whispered about the less than conventional ways of her family. Ada hadn't thought anything was amiss until she was much older and she had the chance to speak with persons her own age. She had been shocked to find that they thought little of education in general. "What good does it do you to know all those names and places and dates and events? It'll not make childbearing any easier on you?" Rosalind Corm had joked once. Then she had started prattling on about the smith's son.

Certainly, Ada saw the truth in her words. Yet she thought she would be all the poorer had she not listened to her betters. For which of them had a mind half as brilliant as Plato's? Which had the tip of their quill as sharp as Catullus'? Indeed, Ada though her life immensely improved through her study of such men's works. And if that made her a sort of curiosity for the eyes of other, well, she could live with it.

Yet a strange sort of melancholy settled over her, heavy as a block of stone. People hardly seemed to understand her values. And if they didn't understand them how could they appreciate them? Her own father though her capable of taking a life. "But it is for the good of England." Ada took the cold comfort of those words. England required sacrifices. Just as England had required a war with the East. England asked for too much blood. "You are mother to us all, so why do you throw your sons and daughters to the mercilessness of death?" she asked the open sky and darkened earth. "Does your heart not bleed with every new wound upon their skin? Do your ears not ring with their cries?"

England was a farce. Ada knew well enough that when people spoke of country it was close to speaking of religion. In a sense both were simple masks to hide behind. Crusaders went to the Holy Land to fight. For what? For Jerusalem? Jerusalem had known peace before their invasion. No, it was not Christ they fought for. God asked for no blood to be shed in His name. Yet the people turned His words around and around until there were only poisonous carcasses.

"It is all a game of chess," magister's words rang in her head. "Make sure to know the rules, and follow them, and you shall do fine." The prediction had held true. Ada had played the role they expected of her, all the while in her mind she painted her world in shades only she understood.

In her mind, the truth was a complicated crossing of many roads. Plato had had the theory of Ideas. Ada wasn't so sure they applied to their world. Yes, it was comforting to believe that there was something more than the concrete and solid. But to know that one could never achieve it, Ada thought it a cruel. Why would God dangle before his creations such a world that they would never reach. She should have liked a utopia that allowed her entrance.

Had she one such world, Ada would leave all this behind, England be damned. Alas, that could only be found in the mind and soul. Never would she be given the paradise she craved in this world. God had promised the righteous would come into his Kingdom. "Will I still be allowed into you Kingdom, God? If I kill a man will I still be counted among the righteous?" Her crime would be seen differently if she called upon reasons such as love of country and duty? Did the morals bend to circumstances? "Is the death of man less a crime should he be a cruel, black-hearted being?"

One could spend their whole life pondering such problems. Ada had to make only until sunrise to decide. Although if she were to speak the truth, her decision had been made right from the start. "God should understand," she spoke softly to the shadows that had started to fade. "And if he does not understand, then he is not God, and I need not fear." Indeed, if the Crusaders were forgiven the bloodshed they caused in the Holy Land, then Ada though she too had the right to pardon under the current circumstances. And if she was wrong, then God would see her punished and she would not begrudge it.

In the east the bright fingers of morning were dragging away the shades of night. The two titans fought, blood spilling forth and staining the sky in rosy, golden and lavender hues. Such a beautiful sight. Ada stopped her pondering to admire the splendour of this beginning. Every morning the sun rose unfailingly to warm them all and give them light. And instead of thanking the Creator for this gift, for one more day of breathing and existing, humans chose to fight and quarrel. Shame on them. If they acted in such despicable manner, Ada thought it was no wonder the world became shoddier and shoddier by the day.

"And what have we here?" a stranger's voice startled Ada out of her reverie. She felt the cold bite of steel against her neck, and cursed herself for entering the forest. "Turn around slowly. No sudden movements and no screaming, please."

Having grown rather fond of her neck in the last few seconds, Ada proceeded to comply. She was rather surprised to find a smiling young man standing behind her. Light green eyes sparkled with mischief, and for the briefest moment Ada felt like smiling. But she caught herself just in time. She was about to be robbed or worse, and there she was thinking about infectiously good moods.

"Who might you be, my lady?" He was still smiling charmingly at her. Ada did have to admit he did not lack appeal. Although, of course, for her it was a cold sort of observation, rather like looking at a painting.

"Ada of Carlisle," she responded promptly, not without a trace of concern. "Please, sir, there is no need for weapons. I am unarmed, and quite incapable of causing you harm." She could see out of the corner of her eyes that there were others too.

"Ah, forgive me." He put his dagger away. "I am Robin Hood." He gave her a mock bow, though not done in insult. "And these are my friends and associates."

"So polite," murmured a raven haired youth. "Robin, she doesn't look like she has anything on her to me."

That hadn't been far from the truth. Ada had her mother's cross around her neck, but she knew that even if she wanted to, she couldn't give it away. It too had fallen into her father's clutches, now bearing inside deadly powder.

Robin looked her up and down. God knew he was not afraid of being daring with his eyes. "You don't happen to be the same Ada of Carlisle who has arrived as the Sheriff's ward?"

Colour dropping, Ada only them realised her mistake. Even if she denied, what were the chances of two girls bearing the same name and being in the same place. Slim, that. "I suppose you wouldn't consent to letting me go."

"Havens, child, we're not fiends. Of course we'll let you go. So long as you do something for us in return." Robin then took her gently by the arm.


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently it was one of her uncle's favourite pastimes to hunt Robin Hood. It was absurd what was happening before her very eyes. "Come now, Hood," Vaisey mocked, not even subtly at that. "When have you needed to hide behind a woman's skirts to accomplish anything?"

"Careful, Sheriff," Robin warned, the dagger coming even closer to Ada's neck. "You wouldn't want your lovely niece to be hurt would you?" If only the Sheriff had known the weapon to be blunt. Ada knew, though, that the other weapons, blades, arrows and what not, were as sharp as could be. "What is it going to be, then?"

From behind her uncle she could see Sir Guy. Ada tried not to let her eyes linger. Anyhow he seemed not to be paying much attention to her. His eyes were trained on her captor, the message clear in those stony orbs. Briefly, she had to wonder what fuelled such a deep hatred. A decision would be reached soon. Ada thought that she could see her uncle gnashing his teeth together. She took it to mean that this victory of the outlaws was not the first one.

"Do you do this often, sir?" Ada asked, sincerely curious. It certainly looked like he was experienced in dealing with the Sheriff.

"Now and then," he replied softly, his breath warm against her ear. If he had wanted to say anything else, he was stopped by small money bags being thrown his way. Robin still didn't release her, but she could see his men busying themselves with the collecting. No doubt had he allowed her to go free, her uncle would have employed the service of his archers, and made some very fine pincushions of them all. Robin's only advantage was her. As long as she stood before him, they would not shoot.

Ever so slowly, she could feel herself being dragged back. Ada's whole body tensed. On a logical level she understood perfectly well what he was doing, yet that unruly part of her, the little girl who still hadn't gotten over the stories and the hope, started to panic. Her face must have slipped; she must have shown her feelings because suddenly anger exploded on her uncle's face.

"Enough!" he roared, almost rushing forward. "Release her Hood." The Sheriff was a good distance away, but Robin's hold on her only tightened. "Gisbourne, get her."

Chaos erupted the moment Guy's horse moved towards them. Robin, still holding her, kicked his horse in the flanks, spurring it on. Ada started fighting his hold. His men had already started running, entering deeper and deeper into the forest. "Release me. You have what you wanted." He'd said he would allow her to go free. Had she been a fool to believe him?

"Gisbourne, catch!" Robin yelled, and suddenly Ada found herself being tossed off the horse as if she were a ragdoll. She rolled on the ground, leaves sticking to her clothes and getting tangled in her hair. In tatters, she dared to look up, breathing hard. Guy had stopped his horse and had dismounted. The sound of hooves pounding the earth could still be heard, so Ada assumed that Robin Hood was making a success of his escape.

"If you have to go after him, go." She would be fine. In any event, what could she tell this man whose bloodlust she had felt even at a long distance? "I can make my way back." Her back pained her in an insignificant amount. Ada did not think it unexpected. She'd been tossed off of a horse, after all.

"Another time," he murmured darkly, hoisting her up. His touch was rough and angry. Clearly the lost opportunity of chasing after the outlaws had stoked that fire. Guy placed her on the saddle sideways, then climbed behind her. Ada felt her whole face flush. She was so close to him now that the heat and scent of him became intimately known to her. "Are you unharmed?"

It wasn't any affection on his part to make him ask after her wellbeing. She had heard the Sheriff order him to bring her back. Still, her heart beat just a little quicker. "I am well." At this rate, her infatuation would gain momentum. Ada did not want that to happen.

Her leg, properly covered by her long dress, accidentally rubbed against his. It seemed that even the Fates were against her. She had been doing such a fine job of adapting to her new life. She had even put that first meeting with Guy in the back of her mind, so she wouldn't have to think about it. She had closed herself in her room for most of the time, and it had all been fine. Until her father's letter came. And the walk, then the forest, then Robin Hood. It seemed that everything was conspiring against her. Ada hastily pulled her leg back, as if she had been burned. One could hardly see and touch and then not desire.

As happy as the Sheriff was to see her returned in one piece, which Ada suspected wasn't a vast amount to being with, the satisfaction was overridden by the fact that he had lost the tax money. He merely gave her a long, hard look, as if everything had been her fault. Reminded of her father when he was displeased, Ada instinctively pulled back, trying to put as much distance between them. Unfortunately, her retreat was rendered ineffective by Guy's form, sitting straight, behind her. Her shoulder bumped into him. Ada, losing her composure, cursed in her head.

"He did not enter the castle," Guy observed calmly, as they rode at a relaxed pace behind her uncle. At the confusion stamped across her face, his eyes narrowed. "Hood. He has not entered the castle." The clarification seemed to help her some, as understanding dawned upon her face. Guy convinced himself that he was too angry to care that she had lovely delicate features, or that the beginning of something pleasant had settled over him once he'd picked her up in his arms. Lust he could ignore. "How exactly did he capture you then?"

Ada turned her face away from him, and irritation swelled inside his chest. Women and their unnecessary, senseless behaviour. He scoffed. Guy heard her mumble something, but because she spoke in such low tones he could not make out exactly what she had said. His fingers dug into her arm. "Louder, my lady. I'm afraid I haven't quite caught that."

"I had gone out for a walk," she repeated, this time her eyes coming back to his face. Guy stared at her with uncertainty. Something was being held back, that much he was aware of.

"Were was it that you went walking?" Because, if she had kept to the castle grounds, Hood couldn't have taken her. No, she had not stayed inside the castle walls. Guy was about to say more, when the Sheriff interrupted.

"Gisbourne," he barked, irritation playing on his face. "If you don't think this task too difficult for you, have my niece guarded as is fit for a lady of her rank. I want no such occurrences as the one today. I'm surrounded by incompetent, blithering fools."

She could feel malevolence pouring out of Guy in torrents. Ada gulped. These men were openly violent. She could have dealt with them better had they at least the polished mask of civility. But no, they were almost as bad as wild animals. Wild things that snapped at the smallest movement. Ada felt cornered, as if she were caught without any chance of escape, and the amusing part was that she had done no wrong.

Nottingham Castle awaited with the gates drawn. The sight threw the young woman back in time, to the first occasion of which she had seen it. The same bleakness oozed from the walls. Ada straightened her back. She ought not to give people reasons to talk. As a woman it was expected of her to be proper at all times, a paragon of decency and decorum. So Ada grew determined. She tried her hardest to ignore everything around her and act the noble lady she'd been raised as.

Guy dismounted his stallion. Ada was careful not to meet his eyes, but she held her hands out for him to help her off. Surprisingly enough he took one of her hands, while his other pulled her by the waist. A sharp intake of breath broke the silence. Ada had the irrational urge to slap his hands away from her middle. It was not like he touched her with any misguided intentions. Yet the foreign feeling of such an intimate hold made her uncomfortable.

Once she was back onto solid ground, the woman could count herself reasonably happy. "Thank you, Sir Guy. I have monopolised enough of your time." She didn't need to look to know that her uncle had left, she could still hear him berating some of his guards some distance away.

"We are not done," he told her, catching her wrist in his hand. "You still haven't answered my question. Where did you go walking?"

Looking up at him, Ada felt a pang of despair. Men were such insistent creatures. "That hardly signifies now." Her answer seemed to exasperate him further. "I would really appreciate it if you released me." That she'd said in a tone laced with impatience and slight superiority.

"I'll release you when I want to and not a moment earlier," he replied in kind. Her eyes darkened, and he could feel her tensing. Guy gave her a half-smirk, relishing in the power he held over her. She could try all she wanted to loosen his grip, alas she would never be able to escape.

"And I demand you leave me be. Let go, or else my uncle will hear of it." She thought she'd caught him at the stunned look on his face. However, she was proven wrong mere moments after.

"The Sheriff will not be so inclined as to satisfy your wishes, not when you've lost him the tax money." Again, her reaction was to step back, her arm now a straight line from her to him.

"He can ask my father for compensation if he feels so inclined, I am sure his kindness will be properly made up for," Ada snapped. Finally she was showing some spine. Guy, quite pleased, released her.

"You are not to leave the castle grounds until further notice, and two guards are to keep you company permanently." He motioned with his head towards two of his man. They came running. "Make sure the lady is guarded at all times. Should anything go amiss, I will hold you responsible."

Did the man think he could treat her like this? Ada would not stand for it. She could take a palm over the face or a disciplining lecture, but she would not be treated like a prisoner in her uncle's house. "Sir Guy, I assure you that it is unnecessary. Should I see them around me I would only become uncomfortable."

"It is fortunate then that your comfort is not the highest of my priorities." And just like that he turned around and walked away from her.

At a loss, Ada glanced to the men. They stared at her unblinkingly. Rather like a cross mare's, her head snapped in another direction, and she departed the premises. Had she truly thought the man handsome upon first meeting him? Well then God must have made a mistake, granting a cad such a face. Ada tried not to hear the heavy steps of the soldiers following her, she tried not to let them grate on her nerves. But damn it, she didn't want to be calm. She wanted to rave and rant until Sir Guy's ears dropped off and he ran from the very sight of her. And if she were honest, she really just wanted to go home back to her father, and forget Nottingham and everything within it.

Supper found her in her uncle's company. His aloof attitude placed Ada in her usual state of unrest. She took small mouthfuls of her broth, and peered at him through dark lashes. He hadn't spoken a word to her since she came in. By the looks of him he wouldn't either. Ada, not much more inclined towards conversation than him, obediently kept her silence. As it was turning out, her stay at her uncle's was one of those experience best left wrapped carefully in a blanket of sweet lies.

Studiously she ignored the guards posted at the doors, and dipped a piece of bread in her food. It was good broth, but her stomach churned in protest at every bite. She practically had to force it down her throat and mentally command it to stay there. The day had been entirely too eventful for Ada not to at least try to replenish her energy. Her stay was indefinite. The best she could do was grit her teeth and play along. Just this once, she promised herself, it was only just this one time that she would do it.

"I have received word from Prince John," Vasey started. He pinned her to her place with a sharp look. "He comes to visit. Do you believe you may avoid pesky nocturnal activities and captures by outlaws long enough to provide some much needed entertainment?"

Dumbfounded, Ada could only nod her head. She caught herself quickly though, and made the proper answer. "It would be my pleasure to entertain our Prince when he does arrive."

"Good, that. At least you know your place." He snatched a goblet from the table. Ada couldn't help but think of the poison hidden in her chambers and what she contemplated doing. "Your father says you are passable with the harp and provide good conversation should you be engaged." He analysed her like one would livestock. Ada held back a shudder. "I will forget the incident that has taken place today should our Prince be pleased with your performance. Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal, my lord," Ada agreed, feeling like she had just handed her soul over to the devil. "Prince John will have anything he wished of me."

Prince John had made no secret of his political ambitions. King Richard was away at war, so his brother used every opportunity to undermine the ruler's authority. England was a prize for him, and if he could not win it, he would rather watch it burn. Or at least that was what some said about Prince John. But of course those loyal to Richard would wish to diminish the Prince's integrity. Alas, if the Sheriff was counted among his friends, Ada knew they couldn't be that far from the truth. One had to be a special sort to be comfortable around her uncle.

"You may retreat, niece." He further made his intention clear with a dismissing movement of his hand. "I wish you a good night's sleep."

"The same to you." Ada opted to depart slowly. She had no reason to hurry, after all. There was no babe to watch, no joy to be found in the blood of her blood.

There seemed to be nothing amiss. Ada could still hear the steps behind doubling hers. She passed the corridor leading to the dungeon and continued walking until she reached the spiralling staircase. Carefully she climbed the stairs, paying attention not to slip. One hit upon those sharp edges and she would be confined to her bed, which at that point didn't seem like such a bad idea. Ada shook her head, willing the thought away. Of course it was a bad idea.

Her door stood slightly ajar, yet Ada didn't take it to mean anything special. She turned to the guards, gave them a long look before entering, and then she slammed the door shut. Only once she was inside did it occur to her that not all was as it should be.

Papers had been strewn across the small rosewood writing table. Her jewels were scattered upon those papers. Ada gasped and ran to the table. To her great relief she saw no powder. That had to mean that her poison hadn't been discovered. She breathed out, a long-suffering sigh. Had her uncle found out, she would have surely hanged by now. But who was it that had searched her room? Ada collected the silver and golden trinkets and searched for the box she used to contain them.

"Interesting craftsmanship," a voice she knew drawled from the relative safety of darkness. Ada's head turned towards the balcony. Sure enough, Guy stood against a pillar, holding her jewellery box in one hand, twirling it idly about.

"It is rude to enter one's room uninvited," Ada chided, returning to straightening her possessions. If she ignored him long enough, he would grow bored and leave her. That had worked well enough for any other man in her life; he should prove to be no exception.

What she hadn't counted on was Guy's stubbornness. "Then make me leave," he challenged, stepping closer and closer to her until she could feel him behind her, a tangible danger. He placed the miniature chest next to her hand on the table.

Shocked by the boldness, Ada's eyes fixed the object. "I shouldn't have to. You are more than capable of seeing yourself to the door." She turned around to find herself caged between him and the desk. He wasn't touching her, but just his presence was a stone wall on its own. "This is improper."

"God forbid that you ever be anything but proper, my lady," he taunted. "But allow us, lesser mortals, this indulgence. We cannot hope to compare to you." The brute, he was laughing at her. His hand fondled her cheek carelessly, and he leaned in closer until their noses touched. "What secrets hide behind that placid mask of yours? Should I pull it apart bit by bit, what will I find? Can you tell me that, my lady?"


	4. Chapter 4

Guy allowed himself to look at Marian from afar. It would be no use to engage her in talk, she would only turn him away. And yet even those rebuffs would be better than silence. He shook his head. The road had to be secured. There was no time for dallying, and he had learned that Marian's pretty smiles and gentle glances were a guise. He refused to play the fool again.

"I still do not understand why I had to accompany you, sir," Ada's voice caught his attention. Turning quickly from Marian's form, Guy gave her a sharp look. Her face had become a cool façade, and he found he preferred that to adoring, lying eyes. "The guards have not left my side I assure you."

"I'm aware," he replied. Since that short visit he'd made to her room, the lady had avoided him. She hadn't been rude, not once, but when he entered a room, she found reasons to leave or something to busy herself with. It seemed confrontations were not her strong point. Perhaps it was out of sheer curiosity that he took her with him, to see what she would do were she given no alternative but to acknowledge him.

Where Marian would have acted impulsively and offered acidic retorts, Ada had seemed to take a step back and detach herself from the situation. She was not overly welcoming, just pleasant enough not to bring offence. Smart girl, he thought. And that made him all the more curious of her. He shouldn't want to know what went on in that pretty head of hers.

"You might like to know that the Sheriff has written to you father," Guy told her suddenly. She had no need to know that, yet as it did not hold tremendous importance, he found himself not at all reluctant to tell her. "And in response it would seem your father will send a man of his own to look after you. Just to make sure no more unpleasant incidents take place."

Ada gulped. Her father hadn't been pleased about the cost of sending her to her uncle. She had expected something like that to happen. "You don't happen to have the name of the man he's sending, do you?" she asked, affecting ennui. The shake of his head made her sigh. There was nothing to be done but wait and see. Meanwhile, she would concern herself with the impending threat of the Prince's visit. "Will it be long until our most beloved Prince is here?"

"Eager, are we?" For some unfathomable reason his voice sounded like the crack of a whip. Her silence made his lips curl. Guy turned the full heat of his stare on her to find a pale-faced child staring back at him. He could practically see the shackles and chains. As for the words rolled out, they left the taste of something vile filled his mouth.

"Of course," Ada agreed, her composure returning. The momentary lapse was put behind. Guy wasn't sure if she was answering his question or simply speaking for the sake of saying something.

Digging his heels in the horse's flanks he left her atop her mare. Thankfully, a carriage, massive and heavily decorated, was coming down the road. Or rather unfortunately, if one was to consider his current predicament. As it happened that was Prince John's carriage and those were his men. The procession stopped, and a few words were exchanged between Guy and the guard at the very head. They nodded at one another.

He returned to Ada's side. "We see them safely to the gates and then you may better acquaint yourself with the Prince." The sight of her trembling brought something akin to pity to Guy's mind. Instead of offering her comfort he gave her a half-smirk. He set a deliberately slow pace.

Despite her holding her silence, he could see the grateful look she sent his way. Foolish girl. He wasn't doing this for her benefit. Although, privately, he admitted to being pleased by those dark eyes glinting for him. The Prince could wait awhile longer.

Alas, all good things came to an end. Ada could see the castle looming in the very near distance. No doubt her uncle would be waiting to greet the Prince, and throw her in his arms like some pagan sacrifice. Ada forced her body to stop trembling. Whether she liked it or not, she would service the Prince. How bad could it be? She would simply have to speak to the man a few times. A small number of words thrown around, meaningless compliments. She could do that.

Reaching the gates, she was met with a cordial stare from the Sheriff. "Niece, allow me to help you down." He yanked her off the horse, nearly ripping her arm off. "Remember your promise," he hisses, for her ears only.

Gisbourne dismounted, and stepped to her left, standing just a bit behind her. Ada would have given anything to have some sort of shield. Pity, that. She would make do with her skirts and smiles. Training her eyes on the man stepping out of the carriage, Ada felt a shock going through her. Prince John was a good-looking man, lean and tall. Not as tall as Guy, but it was a decent height. He smiled charmingly and for a moment he seemed almost affable. Until, of course, his eyes landed on her. Orbs previously warm and slightly mischievous narrowed in something like seduction.

"Why, Sheriff, what have you been hiding in those dark corners of your castle all this time?" The Prince bent over her hand, which he had taken quite without her consent, and pressed a warm kiss to her knuckles.

"Pray, allow me to introduce my niece, Ada of Carlisle." Vaisey was clearly pleased by the way things were going. "Should you not take offence, I would have her joining us."

"Offence?" Prince John gaped. "My dear, dear Sheriff, how could I possibly take offence? Come my pretty darling," he invited, taking Ada's hand in the crook of his arm.

His cheery chatter confused Ada. Despite that she tried her best to keep up with his firing questions, and provide adequate answers. No, she hadn't been here long. Yes, she quite liked her uncle's residence. She was not an only child, she had a younger brother. Her mother was dead, but her father still lived. Oh, she would be delighted to be lead into supper by him. Behind her she could almost swear that she heard a very male, very familiar grunt.

"A thousand pardons, fair lady, but I fear I must relinquish your exquisite company. I would refresh myself before supper." His arm brushed her side, and before she could stiffen, he let her go. "You shall not be cross with me, will you, my dear girl?"

"Your Grace, it is I who is at your disposal," Ada answered, falling into a short curtsy. "You must but wish and speak." She would have liked it more had he retreated forever, but Ada supposed one had to take their pleasures where they could. His over familiar handling of her filled her with dread.

Once the Prince was safely into his quarters, Ada found herself grabbed by another pair of hands. Her uncle had caught her face firmly between his spindly fingers attached to rough palms. "Well done," he praised. "Should you continue on this path, I will see that you are rewarded." Happy with the outcome, Vaisey walked away all the while murmuring about dinner plans.

Left alone with Guy, she gave the man a dubious glance. "I will see myself to my chambers," she told him mildly. Her strength felt sapped. Did the Prince have this effect on everyone? To say that Guy's next move surprised her would fall short of doing her feelings justice.

"Such a pretty song," he said, his hand wrapping around her elbow. "You'd best take care not to stir his interest too much," Guy warned.

Prince John possessed charm, or a diluted version of it, an appeal of the flesh. Once the first layer was peeled off what remained was a spoiled boy ready to take whatever he wanted and bite and scratch whoever stood in his way. Something about the way she'd appeared before made Guy apprehensive. Against the buoyant display of their Prince, she had looked a small mouse fooled into entering the serpent's lair. Why keep her out? Guy didn't know.

They moved together down the corridor. Ada considered his words. She wished he wouldn't make her so unstable. One moment he was kind, then he became cruel, and after he was considerate again. "I am a woman," she finally said, as if that hadn't been the most obvious thing in the world. "There is hardly anything I can say if he does take interest in me."

Hardly could he fault her logic. Should the Prince be displeased with her it would have repercussions over them all. Still, the thought of her on his arm, smiling and playing along to whatever whim the man had; it didn't sit well with Guy. Of course if it came to the Prince actively seeking her, then she would be unable to refuse. This, supper, was a game. He'd seen it numerous times. The only thing that would save her was the bond to another, and even that was not certain.

Donning a rich velvet dress for the event to come, Ada struggled to ignore the taste of ash on her tongue. The cross around her neck, which would have brought her comfort once, now stood to mock her. If this was to be her fate, she would not greet it in tears. Ada wiped away angrily at the small salty drops on her cheeks. "Be brave, be brave, be brave," she whispered to herself, clinging to the mantra. It would pass, everything would be fine. Prince John would have his fun and then he'd be gone. She would not have to endure his attentions again.

"There you are," the breezy voice of the Prince caught her unaware. Ada plastered a quick smile on her face. "Come, come. You must allow me to have a better look." He was not forceful, not even demanding. In a way the Prince presented himself as cavalier. He looked at her as if she were a simple object, something to be used and discarded, something to be consumed.

"Begging pardon, Your Grace, but they must be waiting for us," Ada managed to get out despite the uneasy fluttering in her stomach.

"So they should," he spoke softly, this time trapping her waist with his arm. If she had thought Guy bold, Ada suspected the Prince was impudent. "My dear, you must realise-"

"Your Grace you will forgive our interrupting." Oh, Ada knew that voice. She knew it all too well. "And the most honourable lady of Carlisle." She took advantage of this chance to free herself from the Prince's hold.

"Robin Hood," Ada breathed out. Never had she been so pleased before to see a man who had held her at knifepoint. Granted, she hadn't been held at knifepoint before her walk into Sherwood.

"Hood!" Guy's raged bellow erupted from somewhere down the hall. Ada could only press herself to the wall, or else he would have run her through, she was certain.

Something like a tavern brawl ensued. Ada had to admit she hadn't ever stepped into the inside of a tavern, but she'd heard enough talk from her father's guards to gather that it was typically a graceless, alcohol induced tussle between men who ordinarily had better things to do. In other words it was the male equivalent of embroidery.

Fascinated, Ada crept along the wall. She watched the duel between Robin Hood and Guy. Brash and harsh they were, but not graceless. Clearly they followed a pattern of some sort, rather like a dance. The sound of metal hitting the floor caught her attention. Ada looked down to see a dagger. She bent carefully and picked the weapon up, the resumed her neutral position. Fortunately she returned her eyes to the still ongoing fight just in time to see a fist connecting with the Prince's nose and her uncle yelling like mad for the guards to come. It was mayhem.

"Robin Hood!" the Sheriff screamed, as the outlaw knocked him to the ground having somehow escaped Guy. "Get him! Kill Hood!"

Robin laughed. "Maybe next time, Sheriff." He jumped over to Ada's side. "My lady, I believe you have something that belongs to me. May I?" He reached for the dagger in her hands and gave her a soft smirk. Ada relinquished her hold on the weapon. "Thank you."

Havoc, Ada repeated in her mind. Robin Hood had left a minefield behind. And she had to thread carefully. Like a good subject she approached the now furious Prince. "Allow me," she offered him her kerchief, a dainty sewn piece. He grabbed at it blindly and wiped the blood from his face while spewing choice words towards her uncle and his men. Ada had the sudden urge to laugh. Men were such complicated creatures. The now soiled cloth was pressed back into her hands, and it seemed that the lady had been relegated to servant.

"You are useless!" Prince John thundered pointing to the Sheriff. "You cannot even stop one measly band of outlaws."

For the first time Ada noticed that Guy had been hurt. She stepped away from the Prince, fully intending to see if she could aid somehow. Let the Prince bicker with her uncle. They could stand in the hall all night if they so wished, she was going to do something worthwhile.

"You have good timing," Ada told Guy who had fixed his eyes on her. She reached out to catch his arm in her hands. "If you would allow it, I could clean the wound for you."

"You have medical knowledge, my sweet bird?" Prince John's eager voice sounded from behind her. "Such a fortunate turn of events. You must help me."

"A thousand pardons, Your Grace," Ada excused herself. "I am most certain that a physician should be consulted. His care would be indispensable. I am ashamed to confess that I do not have the necessary skills, Your Grace."

"You, my lady, are a marvellous diplomat," Guy whispered. Apparently he had caught onto her meaning, and saw what she had intended to actually say.

Ignoring him for the moment, Ada bowed to the Prince. "If Your Grace would but make for his rooms, I shall see that our best physician is there to attend him."

Sheriff Vaisey breathed out in relief. "Indeed, Your Grace, my niece is quite right."

"Silence, fool!" the Prince snapped. Then with a placid mask back in place, he addressed Ada. "Very well, gracious hostess. I shall follow your instructions, but I will have a promise from you."

Ada barely managed to keep herself from making a stunned face. As if he were doing her a favour, she raged silently. "And what would you have me promise?" This was a dangerous move.

"Only that you accompany me on my morning walk," he requested with undue humility. "If you would consent to being seen with me, you would make a wounded man most happy."

Theatrics were his strong point, Ada decided. He acted as if he'd been mortally wounded. "But of course, Your Grace. Nothing would please me better. I shall see you on the morrow."

God knew she would have left right then, but Prince John had other plans. "A moment, my dear. You seem to have forgotten something." He sauntered up to her and pressed a blood-red kiss to her cheek. Ada nearly doubled over in shock. How dare he?

"Good night, Your Grace," she uttered, perhaps more stiffly than she had intended. "Come, sir Guy. Let us allow my uncle and his honoured guest their privacy." A bit too late did she realise exactly what she had done. She turned with a startled look to see the same half-smirk from before on his lips. "Forgive me, I had not meant to make it sound like a command."

"But, my lady," he said in a mockery of the Prince's style, "I am yours to command." Ada only wished his words were true. She reigned in a smile. "Now about that treatment you have promised me."

"Ah, yes." Ada had thought to get away from the Prince most of all. "I will summon the physician, and then I shall come to you. Unless, of course, you plan to follow me around." As it turned out Guy did plan to follow her around. Ada shrugged, but went about her business. She located one of the kitchen workers and asked that they bring her the best physician around. Then she instructed the guards at the door on what they were to do with the physician. It was only after that she ordered Guy to sit on one of the benches.

"And what exactly do you plan to do to me?" he drawled, seemingly bored. Despite that he eyed her quite warily, clearly not dismissing the possibility of a threat.

"Well, I am going to take advantage of your weakened state and have my way with you," she deadpanned. Her veneer held for all of five seconds and then she broke into peals of laughter. She hadn't thought herself bold enough to ever say such words. "Don't worry, sir. I will just clean the wound and apply a bandage."

It was very helpful of the staff to give her the objects she had asked for. Ada set about her work, washing the dried blood away and making sure the cuts were properly cleansed. Guy waited until the mirth was gone from her face and only concentration remained. He leaned in. "I rather liked your first plan better," he told her just as she was wrapping the bandage around his arm, startling Ada. She gave him a wide-eyes stare full of reproach.

"Flattery will get you anywhere," she replied, patting the unharmed appendage, "with my uncle, and with the Prince too, I'm sure. But not with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you not overly fond of violence be warned that this chapter contains one pissed off Guy, a lot of obstacles, and choices. Don't say I didn't tell you. Enjoy!

The swish of her twitching skirts alerted him of her presence. The sun hadn't even risen yet, but the heavy curtain of dark grey clouds promised a windy, rainy day. England seemed bent to ruin the Prince's plan. Guy felt a wave of approval coursing through him. Then the tap-tap of her shoes clicking against the floor, Ada stood before him, her figure lit by the soft torchlight and for a brief moment it seemed that it was his privilege to see her thus.

She wasn't ethereal, a being of mist and moonlight conjured from beyond the planes of this world. Everything about her screamed of earth and palpability and approachability. He could reach out, fingers stretched before him, and he would touch skin, warm and flushed. Guy didn't though. The sight of her, vulnerable, trusting, with that shy, surprised smile pinched a cord in his long ignored heart. He reminded himself quite firmly that Lady Marian was the one he courted. "What are you doing here, my lady? You should be in your rooms at this hour." Or at the very least accompanied by the guards. "Where are my men?"

Something along the lines of sadness twisted with her smile. "I could not sleep; they could." The heavy, dark shield of her skirts lifted just slightly, enough for Guy to see the tip of a small, dainty shoe. She looked ready to bolt, to leave him in darkness. "Why are you here, sir? If my memory serves you ought to have been at Locksley manor."

Instead of answering, he shook his head. This woman-child shouldn't have been allowed out of her father's sight, and under no circumstances should she have been sent here. In the end she would fall into the damp, dank sludge, her ever so pristine hands stained. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but hands would pull on her and smear her, and she would break, a frail thing like her. Such a pity, Guy considered watching her features pull taut under anxiety and hurt. "Do not think to speak like that to me," he bit out harshly. "I am under no obligation to explain myself to you."

That pleasant thrum inside of her turned to ash. Ada winced before she could catch herself. At the very least she had expected civility from the man, if not appreciation. "Of course, forgive me," she apologised. Such displays of contrition were almost second-nature to her, so very used to being the one in the wrong, or made to believe it anyway.

In her haste to depart her arm brushed against him, and Guy closed his eyes, willing himself not to turn around and call her back. He was no friend to her. It meant nothing to him that she'd fled with the telltale sign of tears or that the corridor seemed slightly dimmer, emptier without her. The truth was that his frustration with Marian had been piling and piling and then Ada appeared, confusing him further about his own feelings. She had no right to twist him around her fingers, no right whatsoever to act with the degree of closeness that she had exhibited.

He didn't want to think of her or to find himself wondering about where she was and what she was doing. He did not want to feel disappointed when she smiled at another or to tense when she faced some sort of danger. Marian had showed him well and good that such actions meant nothing to ladies. They disregarded concern and devotion, preferring anything else. Guy swore softly. Women were more trouble than they were worth. And yet he only wished she had stayed and troubled him further.

At the other end of the corridor Ada leaned against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself. She supposed it was her own fault for goading the wild animal, and yet her chest felt oddly pressed. She was not blind, nor deaf, nor a fool. Of course she had seen the way Guy drank in the image of Lady Marian. She had simply chosen not to comment upon it. She had seen his cruel treatment of all those he thought beneath him, and still she had chosen not to speak. And through all that, she had thought that she could at least gain some appreciation' she had thought to exist in a small corner of his world, a passive observer. It would have to be enough, she'd reasoned.

To find she had not even that much was no less than excruciating. Ada whimpered, unable to suppress the emotion. Her legs wobbled, making her feel like foal on new-born, spindly. Dragging a gulp of air in, the woman straightened herself. There were still things to be done beside wallowing in self-pity and allowing despair to devour her. Straightening her dress, she brushed over imagined wrinkles, smoothing the material in what could be described as an almost aggressive manner. Prince John still needed dealing with, perhaps even a light put down.

Daring a glance outside the high windows, Ada saw that dawn had started bleeding through the once lightless sky. The sun would be there soon, the Prince coming with it. Despite the urge to shudder, Ada squared her shoulders. Once the day was done and she was safely tucked in her bed, she would cry. But until then not a word of complaint or irritation would leave her mouth. "Duty, Ada, duty," the woman reminded herself with a lightness she did not feel. Duty before everything else, she would have to keep that in mind, and maybe the day would not be impossible to get through. Though sadly she did not think she could count on another intervention from the brigands hiding in the woods.

Climbing down the stairs one by one, she tried to think of what made her happy. Ada recounted with ease the way Thomas' nose crinkled when he was about to cry and the sight of his ruddy face and the sweet sound of his voice. If only father had allowed her to take Thomas with her. Surely a life-drained woman, busy looking after a young child would not have attracted all this undue attention, nor would she have had the time to develop silly expectations.

And speaking of silly, she dared hope it was just a walk the Prince would wring out of her. God be good, Ada hardly wished to spend more than the amount of time required in his presence. It had taken her ages to scrub off of her cheek the feel of his bloodied lips. She needn't another such attention from him.

"An early riser, as always," a soft, velvety voice stated, and Ada could have cried with sheer panic and joy if not for the hand that had clamped over her mouth. "There now, at ease."

Nodding, Ada barely waited for him to release her. She twirled so fast around that she almost wondered how he kept them both upright. "William I'Anson, you rogue. I almost lost my wits over your behaviour." Her arms still rested at her side, but Ada did not protest when he pulled her close to him. "You are aware, Sir, that this hold of yours would be considered inappropriate in some parts of England." She teased with a serious voice, sounding for all the world bothered.

Good thing William knew her better. "Fie to that!" he exclaimed gently, kissing both her cheeks. "What will they do to us, my dear, force us into matrimony?"

"The horror!" Ada gasped, shaking with mirth. "So you were the one father sent. And here I've been tearing myself up over nothing." He hold on her slacked enough for her to see that they had an audience. "Uncle, a good morning to you, Sir."

"It was, until I was woken up before the crack of dawn," he commented wryly. "If you wish to prattle on like silly village wives feel free to do so elsewhere," the man snapped, gnashing his teeth together. "I need my sleep." He walked away before anyone could say anything else.

"Oh, William, I have so many questions to ask." She had been gone for scarce two moons, but her head would not let her sleep without gathering more and more questions every night. "You must tell me about dear Thomas."

Strangely, William looked relieved. "Thomas, of course. 'Tis always Thomas with you, m'lady. You ought to have bound yourself to the lad and dragged him here with you. But, aye, I don't suppose your uncle would have consented."

"Father would not have consented," Ada corrected with her usual meekness. True, that. Father would take no part in the raising of his son, but he would not allow the boy out of his sight either.

"My lady is not lacking admirers," Guy's sharp, brutal interruption made Ada's stomach knot. The sneer on his face when he walked down the hall, even more so. "You," he growled to William, "you are to join the lady's guards." Ada motioned for him to be gone, and Guy did not understand why the sight of their bond bothered him.

"For future reference," she began, wetting her lower lip, "I would prefer that you act civil, Sir. Sir William is my father's man, moreover he is here for my own health and protection, and I will have him treated with respect." Her words hadn't held an ounce of exasperation or anything other equally unpleasant, if fact, Ada had schooled her voice in a bland tone which she hoped conveyed cold rationality.

"Don't worry about your little servant," Guy spat the words like they were poison on his tongue. "He'll be treated most fittingly. In the meantime you may want to listen to what I tell you." He had moved so close to her that Ada retreated a step back. "Never try to tell a man not bound to you by servitude what to do."

"You are confusing me, Sir," she finally allowed herself to say. "I have no wish to make my stay an unpleasant one. Rather let us come to an agreement. I shall endeavour to stay out of your way and you shall allow me to see to my own affairs." There, that ought to make him move back.

An animalistic sort of snarl tore itself from the man's throat. "I'm confusing you?" Two firm hands grabbed her shoulders, fingers digging like hooks into her flesh. The pressure built, making her ache. "Strange, you seemed perfectly fine but a few moments past."

Scowling in reply, Ada pushed against his chest. Whatever she had said was lost on Guy. Clearly it hadn't been meant for his ears, perhaps some sort of grief release from the look upon her face. Still, in his rage Guy would have cheerfully throttled her, wrapped his long fingers around that soft neck and squeeze. Damn it all, he had thought she was different, above secret meetings in darkened corridors and lovers tucked away in some corner. He had meant to offer an apology, only to find her in the arms of another, his mouth pressed to her face. Had the Sheriff not been there, Guy was sure he would have killed them both. First the man, for daring to touch her, then her for deceiving, deceiving like any common harlot. She'd lied as surely as Marian had. They were no different, two serpents slithering in the grass waiting for the moment to strike.

"Christ's wounds!" she breathed out. "You do not wish to call me friend, nor are you inclined to converse with me. I understand, I truly do. But you cannot even abide my presence? What sin have I committed? I have not wronged you."

But she had. Guy continued to hold her shoulders in a tight grip. Her eyes had promised him something in the torchlight, she had looked at him with innocent and intoxicating admiration. Fickle creature. God above, not even Marian had elicited such a response in all her obstinacy. This pale, tiny mite made him want to commit unspeakable acts. He looked down in hopes of assuaging his temper, only to have another kind of frenzy take over. From beneath sombre, thick cloth peeked a scrap of red silk. Against him he could make out her shuddering form, all softness and femininity. Hissing, Guy nearly tore her up off the floor.

"You are a stupid, young girl who knows nothing about the world." The temptation to shake her became quite insistent. "You go about spewing silly notions like amity and companionship. Is the wolf friends with sheep? The devil take it, and you, you little fool. Friendship, she says" he scoffed. Her flinch brought a sardonic twist of lips to his visage. "Think you, woman, that a man wants to sit down with you and discuss the weather over a glass of wine? Think you I want to be your friend?"

"Nay," Ada stuttered. This was scaring her. She had seen violence. But this was more personal, more threatening. "I do not think you want to be my friend."

"Finally, you have something right." The press of his fingers eased just enough for the pain to be subdued. Then there it was again, that same vulnerability from before. It beat upon him like a rain of flint. He met her eyes over the roaring in his head. Would it be so wrong to let her lie to him, to believe that she would not look upon another like this, and that it was only to him that she opened herself? Could he allow her to play her games, pick him up and discard him according to her whims? Guy was shocked to find the answer an affirmative one. Thankfully he wasn't so far gone as to act on impulses or he might've simply snapped her pretty little throat and eliminated the threat.

Tentatively, Ada's hand pressed against his chest. She didn't know what to make of his behaviour. One moment she though she understood him, and then he went and confused her. "Whatever I did to anger you, I apologise. But I still do not understand."

"Sometimes I wonder if this is purposeful," Guy sighed, his face so very close to hers. "Do you have feathers in that head of yours? Or is it that you actually enjoy this?" Bending his head to better reach hers, Guy stopped just before their lips could meet.

"Enjoy this?" she echoed, disbelief seeping into the lilt. "No, Sir, I most certainly do not enjoy being brutalised and shamed." It did not even matter that she was practically touching her lips to his, or that her legs had stopped supporting her long ago.

Staring at her like one would at a dim witted child, Guy chuckled low in his throat. He snapped forward without so much as a warning. Lips mashed together, teeth clattered. Ada instinctively opened her mouth in a scream. No sound came out. Instead she found herself lightheaded, yet aware of her precarious position. On impulse she bit down, sinking hard teeth into thin skin. The metallic taste of blood trickled into her mouth, salty and warm. Ada desperately tried to put some distance between Guy's face and hers. The result was the back of her head smacking against the wall.

Crimson stained his lower lip, dribbling lower and lower, his eyes glowed wildly. Ada's hand clenched in a small fist, nails biting into the palm. There was no need to show him kindness. Far from being ignorant of what had transpired, Ada searched for memories to justify the shift in relation. Just as wild beasts did not attack without reason, neither did men from her experience. What had pushed him this far, to use her in such an ill manner? Regardless, he deserved nothing but her contempt. Heart thudding, Ada tried to find it in herself to shove him away and make her escape. Now was her chance.

Trembling fingers, from rage or something else, Guy caught her chin. Wary of all the sudden changes Ada held his gaze, as if she could read his mind. He touched her as if she were made of spun glass. "You've got spirit, aye." This time his kiss was gentle, seductive even. Ada could still taste the blood. She closed her eyes. "Not afraid to fight back. That's good."

"Even dogs bite when they are threatened." At least he was no longer mad and vicious. "It's only natural, not something to be commended."

"Threatening you, am I?" Guy's hands fell from her person. Her look of slight astonishment seemed to amuse him. "You fight against my hold, so you must feel threatened. One can but wonder what you'll do once the Prince begins to seriously consider your charms."

"He will do no such thing, I won't allow it." Which was stupid, for she could deny the man nothing, but Ada would make sure of it anyway. Even if she had to apply to desperate measures, she would make sure the Prince saw nothing more to her than a subject like any other.

"Good," the man approved, stroking her now flushed face. The Prince shouldn't be given the chance anyway. Guy wished there was some way to have the fop's attention diverted long enough for him to forget about Ada. Unfortunately the discovery was too fresh, and Guy though much too tempting. "You'd best keep your word."

"I have to go." God only knew when the Prince would wake up and she still needed to accompany him for his walk. Guy stood before her still, and Ada nearly asked him to do something, anything to spare her the displeasure. Yet she couldn't. She needed the Sheriff to trust her. Personal feelings had no room there, they were not to be considered.

"No more than a walk," Guy reminded her thickly, cupping her face in his hands. A walk they could not go alone on. The Sheriff would surely follow, Guy would too. At least an eye could be kept of them.

"Aye, no more than I promised." She searched his eyes for some explanation. "Why should you care for that, Sir?"


	6. Chapter 6

"My dear, you must allow me to help you," Prince John said, a satisfied smile on his lips. He took her arm, brushing fingertips intimately over the underside. "I vow, my lady, I shall be distraught to leave such a treasure behind." The man looked back to those that followed them, then his eyes returned to Ada. "Can you not find it within your gracious heart to give hope to the hopeless?"

"Your Highness," Ada admonished gently, lowering her voice. "You mustn't be so kind to me. Whatever shall they say about us?" Subtly she inclined her head to the Sheriff and his men following them.

"They'll say that they saw the angle who has taken into her hands their beloved Prince's heart." Ah, good Lord, he didn't even know her. Ada sketched a small, indulgent smile. "I have bled, my fair lady, I have lain wounded, all for your affections. Do not, for the love of the cross, deny me."

Ada would have liked to point out that his wounds were shallow and certainly not begotten for her. It was by his own folly that he'd been struck. "Your Grace is too good. I do not deserve such devotion, nor such consideration." Such platitudes should have been enough. Did men always have to force their attention upon innocent, unsuspecting women?

"Indeed, you are a lucky young woman." The Prince gave her what was supposed to have been a look of pure adoration. Ada rather thought he was putting on too strong a show. "I am forced to take my leave earlier than I would have liked, especially now. And, by the grace of God, I insist that you have something of me, and I a trinket from you. We shan't allow them to break us apart, sweet lady."

Mercy, he was some sort of lunatic. Ada thanked her strict upbringing that she managed to keep herself upright, else she feared she would have fallen in a faint. Blinking rather like the owl surprised by blinding light, she inclined her head in obedience. "If that is the wish of my Prince, how can I deny?"

Motioning for one of his own men, the prince watched in satisfaction as a tiny, narrow box was brought to them. He smirked to the Sheriff who was watching curiously. "Do not look so long, Sheriff. 'Tis the maid I wish to prize, not you and your incompetence."

Ada wondered belatedly if it was possible to die of shame, when the box was opened, and the Prince raised her hand with his. The smooth, cold metal, glinting in the sun, coiled around her wrist. Rubies sparkled too, and her stomach rolled. This was supposed to have been the Queen Mother's. How had it gotten into the Prince's hands? "I cannot accept such an expensive gift, not when I have naught equalling its value to give. Pray, take it back, Your Grace."

Dismayed Prince John threw her a sour look. "Then what would you have me give you?" Perhaps he had hoped to buy her with precious jewels and sweet words. Ada did not feel at all upset about dashing his hopes. "Surely you won't request something silly like flowers."

"Nay, nay, my Prince," she denied softly. "If you would be so kind, gift me a button." She played coyly with one such brass button caught to his sleeve to demonstrate her point. Then she extracted her handkerchief and pressed it into his palm. "I shall accept nothing else." Catching William's eyes over the Prince's shoulder she mentally willed him to ease his posture. In Guy's direction she didn't even dare to glance. Their meeting in the hall had left her quite unsure of how to react to his presence, so she chose the simpler solution, avoidance.

Guy, on the other hand, had a firm grip on his sword and he was entertaining some very pleasing daydreams of making a gelding out of the pompous pest availing himself of poor Ada's goodness of the heart. Alas, such brutish impulses could not be acted upon. Guy only hoped that she could dodge the man long enough for the Prince to lose his interest.

On his right the Sheriff was gleefully observing the ongoing scene. Guy hid his disgust behind an iron-wrought mask of indifference. He wanted to rip the man's hands off of Ada, take her upon his horse and spirit her away. Irrational as the thought was, Guy found he liked it. In fact he liked it almost as much as he'd enjoyed her lips and the feel of her close to him. Would the damned man not leave sooner? Did he not have a plot to come up with, a throne to steal? Damn him to the lowest circles of hell.

He nearly came undone when the Prince decided to offer her a gift. Presents were for one of two things, courtship or affair. Since he had his doubts that the fool had developed a sudden deep affection for the lady, Guy could only wait with bated breath. Something like relief filled him when he saw her refusal. It felt almost too good to watch the planes of her face become firm and refusing. Certainly his own wrist had been unshackled when she had returned the bracelet.

"Gisbourne, you are awfully tense," Sheriff Vaisey noted, throwing him a suspicious look. "Do try to cheer up. My niece has him wrapped around her little finger. See how he leans in to better hear her voice. See how he looks at her as if the sun were coming out of her mouth."

Only too well could Guy see what the Sheriff described. Most likely the Prince was infatuated. A more prudent man would have stepped back and watched the whole of it unfold. A wiser man might have even given up his shaky hold on the lady. Unfortunately, Guy was neither. "She is valuable, aye." And that was all he was prepared to say on the subject.

"Just think if she should entice him further." The prospect pleased Vaisey greatly. "All the power and riches that could bring." And thus he dreamed on the satisfaction of his own greed. He would make a strumpet of her if he needed to.

Hit by the realisation, Guy came dangerously close to unsheathing his sword and unleashing upon all and sundry massacre. Thinking better of it, he formed a plan more suited to his needs. A smirk flowered on his face. Power and riches, aye.

Mistaking the grin on the man's face for agreement, the Sheriff clapped a hand to Guy's shoulder. "Good, Gisbourne. It is good to see that despite your inferior taste in companions of the female variety, you have not lost all your wits."

Snidely the knight wondered what the Sheriff would say if he knew what had transpired between himself and the very same precious niece but a few hours past. Would he still think his tastes poor? Surely not. In truth, Guy found that Marian was loosing her appeal in the face of the other woman. Her incomparable beauty dimmed, her pedestal shaken, Marian's hold on him had been strengthened by his own fascination with her. Guy had thought that marrying her would bring him respect of the masses, acceptance as their lord. Looking at Ada he found that he wanted her more than he wanted the obedience of those peasants.

Sir William stood behind them all, shrewd eyes taking all the details in. His little mistress seemed to be doing a fine job of her mission. Hardly any need for her father's panic. She had been taken by bandits, and true enough the Sheriff had requested that he be given the money he'd paid for her release, but the girl did not seem to have forgotten what she had been sent to Nottingham for. The only trouble now was the Prince. He had leeched onto his lady ands kept hassling her. His as of yet unknown rival, Guy of Gisbourne looked as if he too would wish to pry the man away from her. William almost smiled. The moment that mountain of a man had appeared in the corridor he'd seen the look in his eyes when they landed on his mistress. Should she bid her time and play her cards right, William dared think that Gisbourne would prove a valued ally rather than an enemy.

Hand securely in the Prince's, Ada was being led back to them. The Prince helped her onto her mare. William tightened the grip on his reins as the man lingered a bit too long. By God's grace he did not more than that for the Sheriff interrupted him.

"Can we not persuade you to stay awhile longer?" The show of hospitality was joined by a genuine looking smile. He sent a meaningful look to his niece.

"Indeed, Your Grace. Can you not spare the time?" Ada asked, complying to her uncle's silent request. She hadn't wanted to, but in the end had figured that such little shows of loyalty could go a long way.

Pleased with the attention awarded to him, Prince John shook his head in the imitation of a distraught person. "I fear it is not possible. I can but promise I shall visit as soon as I may. Sheriff, I trust you shall keep this lovely creature safe until my return." He patted Ada's thigh through the thick material of her layered dress. "It would be a pity for her to fall into the filthy hands of thieves like Hood." Ah, so he had also meant to insult the Sheriff.

Though unhappy with the censure, Vaisey found it in himself to nod solemnly. "Not even a gust of wind shall bother a single strand of her hair." Ada did not doubt that her uncle would lock her in his vault had that been acceptable. Luckily for the woman in question it was not.

From his vantage point atop his horse, William occupied himself with silencing the bubbling laughter. He could see his poor mistress had begun to lose colour in her cheeks. Did she not know that while he was present none would harm her, nor would she have to do anything she had no wish to do? Silly girl would worry herself sick over these unimportant aspects of her stay. William readied his horse. He waited patiently for the Prince to ride before them, then for the Sheriff to join together with Gisbourne and his lady. Ada, he noted, had cleverly put a decisive distance between herself and the Prince. If the man wanted to speak to her he would have to yell the words, which, of course, was no way to have a proper conversation. Sweet Virgin, his mistress hardly had need of anyone's protection. She had also brought herself closer to Gisbourne. Smart girl, William considered pleasantly.

Dust rising around her, Ada forced back a cough of discomfort. It had been on a whim that she had allowed the Sheriff to put himself between herself and the Prince, and then she had gone further and chose to stay at Guy's side. She supposed it had to do with choosing between two evils. Naturally one was inclined to pick the lesser of the two, if only because it could be worked upon. Ada was not under any illusion that Guy of Gisbourne was a good man. He was embittered and full of hatred, resentful of the world. But maybe, just maybe she could count on his stubbornness and that wildness of his to see herself through. If God were willing she could even nurture his desire for her into something more feasible, more lasting.

After all, his kisses in the hallway had been those of a man wanting. Ada hadn't misunderstood that much. On a physical plane she was desirable to him. The rest, whether she became someone he wanted for more than her body, was up to her. She only needed to convince him that she could give him what he wanted. Yet, Ada thought grimly, what did he want? Money he took from the poor villagers, power he already had. They did not seem to fill the emptiness. So exactly what was it that man craved beside means and authority?

Having Ada at his side made Guy both restless and calm, if that were possible. He was well pleased to have her so near, but at the same time reminded that at any moment she could be snatched away. The Prince being forced by circumstance to continue on his journey did nothing to alleviate Guy's worry. He had promised to return, and that did not bode well. Until his next visit, Ada would have to be made unavailable. Gazing to the object of his musing, Guy forgot himself half a moment, and nearly held his hand out to her. How could he do any different when he found her watching him with eyes full of secrets? He wanted to pull her somewhere where it would be just them and sit by her. It was not imperative that he hold her. Knowing her safe by his side would have been quite enough.

"Gisbourne!" the Sheriff's voice cracked like a whip through the air. "His Grace and I will ride to Kirklees Abbey. Escort my niece safely to the Castle. You lot follow Gisbourne; the rest, with me!"

Such moments made Ada sure that God was smiling down upon her. A rush of joy rolled through her at the sight of both her uncle and the Prince riding away, men following them. Turning slightly, she beckoned William closer. They shared a smile. "Think you, I'Anson, that my noble uncle had found his faith at last?" Likely not. Ada knew well enough that the man's only creed was money.

"That should prove fairly interesting, my lady," he said softly. "Mayhap on his next visit he shall have you joining him." If only to put the body in the crypt, was what he hadn't uttered. Ada understood it all the same.

"My lady, we should be on our way," Guy interrupted, smoothly placing himself as barrier between Ada and William. The latter was treated to a piercing glare.

"My good Sir, 'tis such a nice day. It would be a waste to spend it inside. Just look at the shining sun. England is rarely so kind to me." Ada did wish to speak to the man. It seemed prudent to cajole him. "I'Anson, do go and sit with the men. I have no further need of you for the moment." So she'd cheerfully created a bubble around herself and Guy, whilst making sure no harm could come to her. William could see what was going and, and she could have a modicum of privacy.

"You and he seem very close," Guy observed. He got off his horse, the proceeded to have her brought down too. She would have thought him nonchalant had it not been for the fact that his hand continued to hold hers even after such was not required.

"Until recently I was the only child of my father's. As such he had thought to make me the heir to a generous part of his lands." Ada walked slowly to the protruding roots of a tress and sat down. She didn't have to tell Guy to follow her example. "You can imagine that such an action would have brought many a suitor to my doors. William I'Anson was one of them." She made a sound of amusement at the look on Guy's face. "Ah, you ought to worry over more important things. I am not married to him, am I?"

"I wouldn't know, lady," he said in a voice meant to frighten her into submission. "Why are you telling me this? I care not for you and yours."

"Mayhap, but you sat down with me and I've already begun. There's no point in stopping now." Ada primly folded her hands into her lap. "I had no particular desire to be married to any of them, you see, so I followed the example of Odysseus' Penelope. Oh, I weaved no shroud for the dead." She tittered lightly, lost in her memory.

"No shroud, she says," Guy murmured, one step away from tumbling her in the grass. He looked with ill-disguised contempt to the guards and one William I'Anson. "What did you do then, lady?" He needed a distraction.

"Simple, that," she replied but a moment later. "I pretended an illness. I had been told that in the nearest village there had been an outbreak of something or another. Naturally, I thought to affect that. My only problem was that I had no idea what the illness was." She saw Guy relax slightly and smiled sweetly. "So, I snuck into my mother's rooms and used some of her powders. I've never really liked those, made me sick whenever I was too near. The results were not long in appearing. I regretted my decision about the time I was to go down for supper."

"Did your mother not know powders made you ill?" Most noble women did not look after their children themselves. "Or your maid?"

"I suppose she would have figured it out had she been given time and space, but her nerves had already been strung." Not that Ada had been ungrateful for that, shamed as she was to cause trouble for her family. "I thought for sure the suitors would fly faster than the canary chased by the cat."

"Did they?" he questioned, faintly interested.

"Not at first, nay. After a few days, most of them did depart." A soft smile formed on her lips. "I was so pleased with myself. Those that remained were too beginning to doubt I would get well, and I confess I did nothing to help their impression of my poor health. But I'Anson figured me out."

"How exactly?" Guy leaned closer to her.

"Well, he came to my room out of nowhere, scandalizing the maids," Ada explained, her fingers beating rhythmically against her lap. "He grabbed me by the arm and poured a bucket of cold water over my head. All my hard work was washed away, and my ploy discovered."

"Yet, as you say, you did not marry." Why? Surely her parents would have thought to punish her for what she'd done.

"Father was appalled," Ada confided in him. "They would have married me to him. But it was I'Anson that made a bargain with them. He would give me until I turned six-and-ten and not a moment longer to find a husband. Should I be unmarried by then, he would drive me to the nearest church and have us married."


	7. Chapter 7

Guy felt the bile rising. More fool him. Betrothed, was she, or as good as that anyway? And the dog, he'd followed her here to be with her, to make sure that when the time came she would still be his. Guy didn't understand why he should not feel relieved; she would not be his problem if she married her swain. Instead he rather wanted to slit the man's throat and watch the life bleed out of him. Blue eyes smouldered, the full force of his stare directed towards the woman. She sat quietly on the tree roots as if waiting for a sentence.

God's eyes, he swore silently. Guy decided in that moment that he would not let her go. He did not examine his want too closely, unconcerned of it potential sway, not did he see fit think longer upon the matter at hand. What he wanted was to kiss her again, even in full view of others. But to do so was to ruin them both. Currently the Sheriff had need of her to please the Prince, and Guy could tell that his interference would not be seen kindly. After the pest left, he could have the Abbot marry them. It would take some time, and he needed to be discreet about the preparations, but he would not fail.

"What game are you playing?" His hand surreptitiously grabbed the heel of her shoe, satiny and red of colour. His hand was safely hidden by her skirts. Such boldness. He would not have expected it out of her, who blushed when so much as a stare was thrown her way. Fingers raised higher touching naked skin. He felt her tremble and smiled. "You tell me you shall marry, and yet here you are." Her ankle was in his possession. Should it suit him, Guy could pull her off and closer to him at any moment.

Ada, bright-cheeked, tried to shake his grip. "You say that as if I have a choice." She stared to I'Anson and the men for a brief spell. "I wake up when I'm told to, I eat when I'm told to, and I go to sleep when I'm told to. There is precious little I may decide for myself. Sir, I live in a cage, and it matters little to me whether the bars are gold or iron."

"So this is revenge?" The thought that he was being used made the muscles in his back tense and anger swam near to the surface. His grip on her leg tightened. "Is that it, little bird? You want vengeance?"

"Nay," Ada shook her head. "I would much prefer freedom of thought and action, but in lieu of that, as my dream are quite impossible, I should like to choose my own keeper. At least that I have the right to." She spoke not of love. Guy had to admire that. Love was terrible and fickle and unneeded. What she wanted was the power of choice. Guy knew how that was, there had been a time when he too had little choice but to obey.

A ray of light fell across her lap, making the dark material of her dress shimmer. Guy watched it contemplatively. "You want my protection, then?" How he longed to feel the rest of her underneath his fingertips. Her nod sent a thrill through him. Guy tugged on her heel gently, lazily, almost as if he were playing. Yet his eyes burned through her. "What do I have to gain from this?"

"A willing wife, I should say," Ada deadpanned, her face colouring. She glanced away, her eyes misting over. "Ah, of course. I had forgotten. My apologies. I talk to you of marriage not knowing if you do not have your heart set on another." Slipping her foot out of his grasp, she leaned in. "Still, do think about what I've told you."

Chuckling, Guy allowed her to escape. She could be amusing at times. "How soon would you like to be married?" He paid particular attention to a tendril of bone straight hair coming over her shoulder, tracing its descent with his eyes.

"The sooner the better," she replied. "I do believe I am ready to move on now, Sir. We've been taking in the fresh air for quite some time and I'm afraid I've forgotten all about that letter I was supposed to write home."

They rode swift to the castle. Ada had not understood the need for such a hurried pace, her own business not being that urgent. But she did not complain for it. It was nice to be back on one's two feet. She patted her mare's mane. It was not that she disliked riding, but she did not particularly like it either. She could never ride properly in a skirt, needing to sit sideways in the saddle. And charging atop the beast astride was out the question. She had no desire to treat the masses to a view of her naked legs if she could help it.

Not waiting to see her mare led into the stables, she began climbing the stairs. Prince John would leave, but only on the morrow. That meant she had to play entertainer at supper for him, since the last one had been ruined by Robin Hood. A change of gown was in order, and maybe a cleverly chosen piece of jewellery.

"My lady," she heard Guy calling from behind. Ada turned, her countenance questioning. "You have forgotten something other than that letter I'm afraid." They were near her rooms.

"Have I?" she wondered out loud. "I'm sure you are mistaken, Sir Guy." She had forgotten nothing. Ada smiled his way.

"As a matter of fact, I am not." He smoothed back a strand of her hair. "Is this any way to treat a man who will be your husband? You walk away without a word." One arm came to encircle her waist. "We can't have that, can we?"

"Very well," Ada acquiesced. "I wish you a good day, Sir Guy. I shall see you at supper, or not, depending on your attendance. There, you have had plenty of words now." Undeterred, he continued to grip her middle. "Sir, are we to play that game again?" Did he want to kiss her? Surely not.

But he did, in fact, want to kiss her. "No games," he corrected her error. "It's all good and well to have your word on this agreement of ours. Yet this calls for a more formal seal, does it not?" His hand pressed against her lower back until there was no space between then. Lowering his forehead until it touched hers, Guy almost didn't notice that she had arched herself up to meet him. In reply he brushed his lips to hers, gentle and careful, so to better ease her.

Moist and soft, she tasted of sweet apples, probably from her breakfast. Lord, she felt so right against him, her small frame covered entirely by his. Pushing more insistently against her lips, Guy brought his other hand to her hair, claiming one of the locks for his own. He would have done more, but he knew their current position would not allow for it. "Until we are wed, I'll ask no more of you but this. I consider that you have made me a promise." Dark eyes resembling a storm caressed her face.

Rather impulsively Ada caught his face in her hands. "About William," she began, breathing heavily. At the confusion of his face, she promptly clarified, "William I'Anson." There was danger in his orbs now. How quick the man jumped from passion to anger and from rage to fervour. "Father sent him. It is his duty to stay and guard me."

It was a warning. Guy understood well enough. But that did not mean he had to like it. I'Anson would prove himself more difficult to remove it seemed. For the moment he was best left alone. "I'll see you later," Guy promised, giving her a light tug on the waist.

"Aye, Sir, later," she agreed. And yet his mouth took hers again as soon as those words were spoken. Was he trying to make her lose her wits? Ada knew her limits, and they were about to be exceeded. She was only human too, and as such as vulnerable to pleasure and pain like any other. Her fascination with the opposite of her gender hadn't been born with Guy, with him it took wings. No man before him had done to her what he was doing, and there was some mysterious quality to his actions.

William had always been gallant and careful of her, except that one time with the water bucket. He had never as much as touched her elbow if they were not in public. Only when others looked did he enjoy making a show out of his attentions. Strangely though, if it was just she and him, William preferred to keep a wide distance between them.

There had been other things Guy would have liked to say to her. He should have warned her to keep away from Prince John and not to dare flirt with that I'Anson again. He could do aught but kiss her. It was a wonder she had not started to fight him off, poor lass, she couldn't have had an easy time of breathing with his lips fused to hers as they were. Alas the man was not keen on relinquishing his claim.

However he had his duties. Guy pulled away gently, disappointment lodged in his stomach. Hood was not to make an appearance at supper, even if Guy had to bar the door once everyone was inside. He gave one last squeeze to Ada's hand and turned on his heel. Looking at her too long would only get him distracted and unfocused. He could have his fill of her later. With that though Guy climbed down the stair, a sureness to his step.

"Sir Guy," a feminine, well-known voice made his freeze. Marian of Knighton stood at the foot of the stairs, a smile spread across her face. "I am so pleased to see you." Those laughing bright eyes tore through him.

Making the decision of letting someone go, and actually letting them go were two very different matters. He had thought he would brush her aside easily when he saw her again. This woman whom he'd loved and decided to rip out of his heart, why could he not stop looking at her? "Lady Marian," he replied cautiously, "what brings you here?" She told him she was pleased to see him. Did she think him that dull-witted as to believe her? She could have seen him everyday for the rest of her life, but she chose to run away. She chose not to marry him. Did she wish to spin some more tales, get some information out of him? Guy thought he should resist, but when she smiled like that, her eyes gentle upon him, he felt his resolve crack.

Then what of Ada? She had implied that she would marry him willingly. She would choose him. And yet Marian stood before him and he could do naught but wait for her to speak again, hanging onto every words, rather like an old habit. If only Ada hadn't gone to her rooms. It was ever easier to ignore Marian's presence and the feelings she evoked with the young woman by his side. When would he ever learn? His heart urged him on, his mind pulled him back. Was it even possible to want two very different women at the same time?

"I wished to apologise once more to you." Wide eyes, damp and full of regret, begged him to understand. "I was hoping you would be willing to put the incident behind us."

"It is but a memory now," Guy assured her, not quite managing to dodge her hopeful smile. His hearth clenched painfully. "If there is anything else." It was hint enough that he had gotten weak in her presence. She could play him exactly as she wanted.

Marian lowered her eyes, taking a sudden special interest into the floors. "Thank you, Guy." Her words brought a knife to his gut, the innocent look of her propelling him to think of Ada. If he had her eyes on him would it be truly gratitude in her orbs, or a mockery of everything he had done for her. With Marian one could never be quite sure.

Irascible and obstinate, she was as likely to be up to her old tricks, despite her proclamation of peace. "Nay, think nothing of it." What he needed was to find Ada once more and feast upon her image and being, cling to her and hope she would not let go. Guy did not fancy falling back into the pit that was his interest in Marian of Knighton. "I'm afraid I must take my leave of you, my lady, I am waited upon."

"Oh," she breathed out, apparently disappointed. "Well, I shall see you at the Sheriff's feast, will I not?" Nodding her own answer, Marian curtsied, and gave him one last smile before excusing herself from his company.

Relief filled him to the brim when he saw her thus removed. Closing his eyes, Guy tried to shake away the lingering doubts. It was she that did not want him. Time and again, Guy had protected her from the Sheriff's wrath, hidden her missteps to the best of his abilities. That had not warmed her to him, not at all. Only when she needed something of him did she seek him out. So, why then did he feel the need to aid her still?

"Interesting, that." The drawls brought Guy out of his thoughts. His head swerved to the side, eyes meeting the grinning face of William. "Pretty lady, is she your sweetheart?"

"That is of no matter to you," he replied acidly. The challenging stare he received put him on edge. Guy tensed, his hands curling into fists.

"But it is, Gisbourne," the other man protested lightly. "I know you and she were to be married. I know you felt, or even now feel, for her. Unlike my lady, I pay attention." Green eyes flickered, a dangerous light to them. "Whatever game you are playing here, leave the Lady Carlisle out of it."

"Do not presume to order me," hissed an agitated Guy. "If anyone should step away then it is you, I'Anson. You have no business here."

The damned man actually had the nerve to laugh at that, a deep bark from within his throat. "Ah, but I do." His stare became cold, colder than winter's chilly bite. William levelled a derisive smile to an already irked Guy. "So long as I have my lady to care for, wherever she is, is my business. Again, keep your distance."

"Or what?" This he could deal with. Threats and truths, Guy could take. "You think you can stop me?"

"I would never presume," William answered, making a mockery of Guy's earlier words. "But where I dare not venture, other have no problem in doing so. " He leaned against the wall, lips moving in a minute sign of amusement. "You and I, we both know that there are men out there that won't need to think twice about obliterating us. We are expendable, Gisbourne."

"All the same keep away from me, or you shall find yourself a head shorter." Guy would have left then, if not for the urge to further put the man in his place. "Lady Carlisle needs not make the object of your thought and worries any longer."

"You know nothing," William snapped, his features becoming stony.

"On the contrary, I know." And because of that knowledge he refused to allow this man to waggle his tongue needlessly. It all boiled down to Ada, he knew. I'Anson would have probably liked nothing more than to trap her in his clutches.

"Gisbourne!" the Sheriff's shrill cry called to Guy from outside. Grunting, the knight threw I'Anson one last glare before ambling to the high window. He looked outside, and sure enough Vaisey stood there, a peasant at his feet. It was a woman by the looks of her, covered in dirt and grime.

Making a sound of disgust, Guy ignored the fact that William had lagged behind to watch the unfolding scene. If the Sheriff wanted him, then he had to go. God, he hoped it was not a loss of his time. Peasant got arrested all the time, for not paying taxes, for aiding outlaws, for being filthy and a waste of space. It took mere moments to get into the yard, and it the Sheriff's line of sight.

"There you are, Gisbourne." Vaisey looked to the woman at his feet with an especially cruel look on his face. "This wretch is in need of accommodations."

Nodding to the guards, Guy knew she would be taken to the dungeons. Possibly due to boredom the Sheriff had decided to torture some people. Seeing as the prisoners had been scarce these last few days, he had expected something like this to happen. No doubt Price John had encouraged this entertainment. "She is to hang?"

"Hang?" Vaisey presented an offended front. "Nay, Gisbourne. That would be boring. Do I want to be bored?" The disdain dripping from his voice was akin to venom poured on a wound. "Clue-no. She will provide entertainment at the feast. I must show all those that come that I shan't be crossed, my will is absolute." Rubbing his hands together, he murmured something so quietly that Guy did not understand. Not that he would care either way.

For a moment he looked to the wench on the floor. She couldn't be very old, barely a woman. Underneath all that dirt was a comely face. It was a pity really that she would only be fit to be thrown to the dogs after the Sheriff was done with her. Blue eyes, darker than his own, widened in fright as she was grabbed by her hair and hauled up. Vaisey seemed amused by her struggle.

"Do get the peasant to shut up," Prince John requested in that cultured voice of his. "She'll lose her voice before we can beat it our of her. And where would that leave us?"

"Gag her," Guy ordered. He coolly ignored the horrified look on Marian's face when he noticed her in the crowd that had formed. Turning away, he fixed his stare on the still struggling woman. "Don't damage her too badly."


	8. Chapter 8

"You need not do this, my lady," William said in a soft manner, standing with his back against the wall."Your father will understand why you could not go on." His discomfort was clear. In fact William wondered why his mistress was so insistent on staying, even knowing what would follow. "It shall be gruesome."

"Then I shall make sure my stomach has nothing to empty," Ada replied. "Do you not understand, William? I cannot go now. The Prince expects me to be there. Don't think my uncle would hesitate to drag me down there by my hair if he needed to." She fastened her cross around her neck, cool metal against heated skin. "The corset is too loose."

"You're tiny enough," the man answered with a scowl. Still he grabbed her laces and wound them tighter. "Or are you hoping that the difficulty you'll have in breathing will save you."

"I am a dreadful actress, you know that." Ada pulled away from him and took a comb from the table. She swept her hair away and pinned it securely. That ought to do the trick.

"Nay, you did well enough all those years ago." As he was wont to do, William retreated a few steps back. "You certainly had no qualms about all those suitors of yours for fools."

"William, I pretended an illness. The only thing I had to do was stay in my room under the covers. That does not take much acting skills." This sort of talk made her uncomfortable. Why could he not let that go? "I was three-and-ten, a child. How could I have married anyone?"

"Hardly," he muttered under his breath. "Now you are older, and, hopefully, wiser. Why must you expose yourself so? God's eyes, woman, cover your shoulders with something!"

"Pray leave me be," she finally snapped. "Watch my back if you must, if it makes you feel better about this, but do not presume to order me. You have no right." She wrapped a shawl about herself.

"I have every right!" he roared, making Ada flinch. "Come winter you'll be my bride. I've allowed this folly of your father's, hoping your eyes would open. But you're as stubborn as ever." William caught her hand, forcing it to his side. "Do not make me lose my temper." He pushed her away sharply and left her there, closing the door loudly behind him.

Huffing, Ada shook her head. It had been foolish of her to do what she'd done. But at that time she had expected that her trickery would solve all her problems. Mayhap she should have just refused all her suitors directly, but a child couldn't have been expected to make the wisest of choices. William spoke as if he'd played no part in it. But the man had known she was deceiving the others right from the start according to his own private confession. And he had waited for them all to leave before using his knowledge to trap her and force her hand.

Taking a deep breath, she brushed her supposed friend's insults away. He could suit himself and not come for all she cared. It was not like she needed him to watch her every step. Ada soon followed William's example and exited only to find her two guards staring strangely at her. She glared back, but bit her lip to keep from saying anything inappropriate. "Sir William is no longer needed in watching me. I would thank you to tell him so if ever he comes to sit with you again."

"Aye, m'lady," one of the men responded. "As you command." He and his partner laughed. "We don't take orders from women."

Pursing her lips, she turned on her heel and started walking calmly to the stairs. No matter, she would have Guy tell them to keep William away. If anything Guy would not refuse her that. Ada forced herself to smile amiably as she approached the hall. By the sounds coming out of there it seemed that many had already arrived.

All eyes turned to her when she entered. Ada ignored the stares as best as she could and ambled to the Prince's high seat. She curtsied gracefully. In response Prince John inclines his head towards her then dismissed her with an easy flick of his wrist. Ada could barely keep her relief in; it had been so much better than she'd expected. She moved to her uncle's side, intent on spending the rest of her night there. However, it seemed the Sheriff had other plans. "Go have a sit beside to Gisbourne, girl. I must have Hoffleswood at my side."

"As you say, Sir," Ada complied only too happy. After William's harsh words, she would appreciate Guy's presence. It looked that even the Prince's interest in her had mellowed. "Thank the Lord."

Guy saw her the moment she entered. He wanted nothing more than to stride to her and take her by the hand, place at his side. She was lovely, small and dainty, a perfect tiny bird in a room full of predators. She had walked to the Prince, as was required. The man had dismissed her to his pleasure. But still she did not come his way. Instead she joined her uncle. There had been a quick exchange between them before she stood and her eyes found him. He stared back at her unabashedly, until she stood before him with a small smile curving her lips.

"Come, sit by me," he invited with a light smile of his own. The lack of hesitancy on her part brought a thrill to him. Guy looked her over, noticing the shawl draped across her shoulders. He gave snuck his hand to her back and gave a mild tug. Ada obeyed the request by allowing the material to drop lower on her arms, uncovering gentle sloping shoulders. It was more skin than she had ever showed before. He chocked back a chuckle, at the same time fighting off the sudden urge to bend his head and kiss the exposed flesh. He almost forgot why it was that he could not just steal off with her and not return. "What exactly are you trying to do, my lady?"

Ada embraced this moment of levity with all her heart. "Are you content right now? Is being like this alright with you?" Her questions were a silky caress against his face. She looked at him like only one other woman had in his entire life. That had been his mother, now long dead.

"You could say that. Aye. I am content." But not fully, he added to himself. If he were to be satisfied he would require a bit more than a coy glance from her and those lips speaking. Indeed, Guy would have preferred that they had a private corner where he could embrace her close and feel her melt in his arms. Christ! He had to stop.

"Good, then." Ada withdrew, settling more comfortably in her chair. She curiously peered around the room, taking in all the faces of those who were attending. All these people and no one to stand up to her uncle's tyranny. It was a sad state of affair, that. Not for the first time she felt the weight of the cross dangling at her throat. She had the power to end this all. "I am glad to her that," Ada continued her earlier though.

Mesmerized, Guy could not get his throat to work. The only think he was capable of at the moment was staring at the woman before him. She was still a stranger to him, and if as a stranger she was that interested in his comfort, then what would she be like as his wife? A willing wife, she had said. When had anyone willingly given him anything without expecting something in return? His mother, of course. She had loved him. And his sister, before he'd been forced to giver her hand away in marriage. At least she would never suffer from cold and hunger again. His father, Guy was certain the man had loved them, but he hadn't been loyal to the family. Not where it counted.

There was sadness in her eyes, and it caught him by surprise. "What bothers you?" Her distress was his distress if only for the fact that she would be his wife. "You may tell me whatever it is."

"You are too good, Sir." That was a reiteration of the same answer she'd given to the Prince. It was something empty, devoid of meaning, and Guy narrowed his eyes at her. Ada seemed to have noticed, for her hand slipped against the arm of his chair. "It is something I wish to discuss in private."

Assured for the moment, Guy took her hand in his under the cover of the tablecloth. He felt her fingers twine around him. It was a gentle twist of petite digits burning against his skin. Guy bit the inside of his cheek and squeezed back gently. He could feel the stirring in the pit of his stomach, fire coming to life. "Then I shall come to you later."

"Nay," she protested, mirth hiding behind the refusal. "You know as well as I that it would be inappropriate." At the very least they had to keep up appearances, she thought. "Someone could see." Did men always tend to perceive the situations in such ways as to suit their own needs?

"I am marrying you," Guy reminded her. He guided their entwined hands in her lap, brushing the back of his across her leg. It could have been accidental, of course, if not for the additional pressure he exerted once his hand was settled.

"My lady," the Prince called from a few seats away. He raised his cup to her. "Would you care for a dance?"

"I would be delighted," Ada said, putting her best smile on. Less cooperative was Guy, whose hold tightened on her hand. Ada still pried herself away. With a small sigh, she discreetly touched the same hand to his shoulder as she turned to leave.

As it turned out, Prince John was an excellent dancer. Ada allowed him free reign, but she couldn't help noticing that he had graceful moves and a good form. He twirled her once, twice, thrice. She had the urge to laugh, spinning in circles as she was. This reminded her of being an innocent child, playing in the meadows. "Your Majesty, is dancing one of your passions?"

"Amongst others." He guided her through the steps, one hand holding hers, the other on her waist. "You are adept at dancing too, my lady. Do you count it amid your passions as well?"

"Of a sort," Ada nodded. "I'm afraid that my proficiency comes from hard work rather than talent." She had not been passionate about dancing when younger, but she'd learned to please her mother. "For me it is an acquired taste."

"Dancing is a lot like sword fighting." Prince John tapped his heel to the floor, signalling that she was to chance hands. "You must be calm and allow your body to find the rhythm. Never force yourself, and take care to measure your steps. Thrust and parry. Thrust and parry."

"Your Grace makes it sound so easy," the young woman whispered.

"Only because it is," the Prince laughed. "There, I believe the song is at an end. Shall I return you to Gisbourne's side?"

Blushing prettily, Ada nodded once more. "I would be very grateful if you did, Majesty."

"Gisbourne, eh?" Prince John murmured contemplatively. "He could teach you a thing or two about sword fighting, I reckon." He tittered at his own words, and even more at the confused look of the female's face. "My darling, I dare say this has been very much fun."

"Your Grace?" Curses, Ada complained silently, Men never could quite make themselves clear. Would it be so hard for them to express themselves in a way that she could understand? "Sir Gisbourne is a knight, it would be inconceivable for him not to know how to wield a sword."

Rich laughter spilled from the Prince's mouth. "Dear Lord, you are going to kill me, my lady." He helped her to the table and turned amused eyes to Guy who looked bored. "If you've nothing better to do Gisbourne, I suggest you take the time to educate our little lady, here, in the art of sword fighting."

Understanding at once the mischievous look and the meaning of such words, Guy allowed a smirk to form on his face, for the sake of appearances. Inside though, he seethed at the impertinence of such a request. "Your Majesty." His acknowledgement was all the Prince needed to be on his way. "Sword fighting?" He quirked a brow at her.

Finally catching on to a deeper meaning, Ada had the grace to blush, in fact she did so profusely. "I did not know it could be a reference to other exploits."She bit into the side of her lip. "I would like some fresh air." She rose slowly, giving him time to process her words.

Yet much time was not needed. Guy stood after her. "I shall accompany you. It seems your guards have vanished yet again." He led her towards the balcony, keeping the appropriate distance between them until they were out of sight. Hastily, he changed their direction, catching her by the waist and pulling her into a dark alcove. Voracious fingers dispensed of the shawls, ghosting against pale flesh. Guy didn't go for her mouth right away. He started at her forehead, the down to her cheeks. His hands, no longer busy with the shawl, caressed her sides up and down.

When he finally reached her mouth, Guy unexpectedly swung her up, making Ada squeal. She giggled, instinctively catching his shoulders to support herself. "This is not the balcony." His grunt of agreement only fuelled her. Still, she grew quieter when he kissed her. This time however he surprised her by opening his mouth, she felt his lips parting against hers and nearly reeled back as the tip of his tongue traced her lower lip. "Guy," she whispered, pushing against his shoulders. Using the opportunity Guy pushed past her lips tentatively, pressing her middle lightly, he coaxed her own tongue into the game.

After what seemed like an eternity, he released her lips with a small sound of pleasure bordering on pain. They both breathed heavily, one from trying to hold back, the other from both confusion and exertion. Guy buried his face in her neck taking in her scent, and Ada couldn't help wiggling against him. His stubble grazed her, a slightly arousing experience. For sure her skin would turn the colour of burning fire if he did that for much longer.

"Is it necessary for that friend of yours to loiter about?" he asked, moth moving against the curve of her throat. "At the very least tell him he is not needed anymore."

Swallowing with difficulty, Ada clutched his shoulders tighter. "I wish I could. William has his task to carry out and my sending him back will have no effect on him. But you are in a position of authority. Simply give him something else to do than guard me. This is a big castle."

"Not big enough," Guy muttered. "Once the Prince is gone, I will take care of I'Anson. Come, we must get back now, before our absence is noted."

Back of her feet, Ada straightened her dress and picked her shawl up, covering her shoulders again. It had grown quite chilly. A shiver crawled up her spine. Disregard it as unimportant, Ada took Guy's proffered hand, and tighter they walked to the main hall. They entered just in time to hear the Sheriff's announcement for a special show that was to be put on.

"This world we live in is full of unpleasantness and treachery. There are thieves out there who will not think to spare anyone their hard earned coin." He sat up from his chair and took a step forward. "My dear nobles of Nottingham, it has come to worst. Our own good Prince has been the victim of such insult." He smiled acerbically at the gasps and sounds of amazement. "Fear not, we have apprehended the culprit." The nobles quietened.

Leaning onto Guy Ada could only watch in horror as they brought in a young woman. "There she is." Vaisey pointed to the peasant. The guards holding her forced her head up. "Look at her, look at the human misery. Does she not make you sick?" Aye, she did, but for entirely different reasons. The image of a tortured girl, Ada chocked back a sob. She couldn't watch this. "She must be punished for her crimes. We shall chastise her here, with methods known to us, but think of what awaits her beyond. She will burn in the fires of hell."

"Oh, God!" Ada whimpered. She saw a soldier holding a whip approaching. It cracked menacingly in the air, not quite touching the woman's skin. Ada shuddered, feeling herself grown faint. "Make it stop," she said even before the first stroke was applied. As disturbing as it was, she could not turn away.

Screams of agony filled the room. Ada tried to catch at least one sympathetic face in the crowd. There was none. Or so she thought until she saw another young noble woman. Her face must have reflected Ada's own, yet she was doing nothing to stop this. With a start, Ada realised that she too had remained inert. Another hit, another shriek. Jesus, the girl's back was bloody and full of wounds.

Tearing herself away from Guy, she took a step forward, then broke into a sprint. "My Prince, mercy!" she cried, earning herself the full attention of all the souls in the room. Prince John stood up, and climbed down the steps. "Pray, listen for there is a good reason."

"Is there?" He was faintly flushed, the walking stick in his hand raised gently off the floor, as if prepared to strike. "Why would I spare this wretch?"

"For it is Michaelmas, Your Grace. She did not succeed in her heinous crime, did she?" The Prince shook his head. "Then, by God, I beseech you, Majesty, spare her life. Could you find it in your magnanimous heart to do so?"

"And the what? If I set her free the devil will tempt her again, and she will find other pockets. You are soft-hearted, little dove." But he hadn't said no yet. Ada clung to that.

"I will vouch for her." Again she heard the murmur of the crowd around her. "I humbly beg that you consider my request, Your Majesty." Her knees were trembling. She didn't dare look away from the Prince. For further effect, and because she feared her legs were about to give in anyway, Ada lowered herself on her knees. "Please, Your Grace, you can save her, and in doing so you will have earned not only respect and admiration, but also love."

"Do you love me, my Lady of Carlisle?" He gripped her chin and raised it until her eyes met his. "If I set her free, I have your respect, admiration and love?"

"Not only mine," Ada more or less promised. "Show a man mercy and you have won on your side forever. It is not something easily forgotten."

"Twenty strokes of the whip to mend her ways, and then she is yours." He let go of her, and Ada knew her victory was as much that as it was a defeat. The poor girl wouldn't survive twenty more lashes.

"Your grace is kind and generous," she finally said, for lack of anything better coming to mind.

Tugged back to her feet, Ada knew that if was Guy to take her deeper into the crowd and shield her eyes from the flogging. "That was irresponsible and dangerous," he hissed in her hair, handling her a bit too roughly. "What did you think you were doing?"

"You knew about this," she voiced in reply, eyes hardening into opaque walls of darkness. "She is just a child, Guy. For pity's sake, look at her."

"Don't you ever do something like that again," he ordered just as softly. They did not need to attract more attention to themselves.


	9. Chapter 9

Marian drew herself nearer to the table where Guy had set the Lady of Carlisle. After questioning a few of the other nobles she had found that the girl was a relative of the Sheriff's. A young woman of no more than five-and-ten, if rumours held true. But in truth she looked younger than that, standing shorter than Marian and possessing a childlike face.

Covertly she'd managed to witness an exchange between Guy and the girl. It seemed that he had disagreed with her intervention, and she had chastised him in return. As happy as she was for poor Emily, whom they were dragging away on orders to be taken to the Lady of Carlisle's room and cared for, Marian knew the young woman would only suffer for her kindness. She felt compelled to warn her. God knew what the Sheriff had planned for her. Vaisey had gotten a certain kind of look upon his face, one that promised pain and suffering. He would not act upon it until the Prince was gone, naturally. And that might just save the young lady.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced," the Lady of Knighton proceeded. "I am Marian of Knighton, and I simply must commend you on your bravery. What you did was a wonderful thing."

"Lady Marian," the younger woman began, dark eyes shifting from her plate to the door. "I am Ada of Carlisle, pleased to make your acquaintance." She smiled then, a weak spread of colourless lips. "And what I did was reckless and hardly wonderful."

"The Sheriff will not be happy," Marian noted. "Have you given any thought to how you shall avoid his punishment?" She had almost gone further, promising her help. A promise that was not hers to give.

"Avoid it?" She stared at Marian like she'd just told her that King Richard was returning from the Holy Land. "My lady, don't trouble yourself over such matters. I shall be as fine on the morrow as I am on this night."

Taking a gulp out of her goblet, Ada contemplated the female sitting on her left. Lady Marian of Knighton. So this was the woman who Guy had almost married, that arcana imperii, the person for whom he would move mountains. She was beautiful, a sort of cold beauty, etched on her skin and twined in her eyes. If she were to be honest with herself, Ada felt the threat of Marian as the condemned felt the noose tightening around his neck.

"If it isn't the Lady of the Lepers," the Sheriff mocked, coming to stand before both women. "Have you grown tired of hiding inside monastery walls? Is praying all day longer not to your taste?" Sharp eyes dissected Marian, their cruel glint resting on that beautiful face. Ada instinctively straightened her back to give the impression she was not bothered by his behaviour.

"I was gone on a pilgrimage, my lord," Marian answered as if he hadn't been exceptionally rude. She was not a woman to be cowed, apparently, which only made Ada wonder at her reluctance to enter the fray herself and rescue the peasant woman.

"But of course you have," Vaisey derided. "And you were just sharing impressions with my niece here, weren't you? Two busy bees comparing notes on embroidery and thwarting your betters. Did I not tell you, Gisbourne, that women must be closely watched?" He was addressing Guy who had come to stand behind him. "It is a pity you cannot be put on chains."

"The only pity is that God did not smite you yet," Marian spat back at him. "How dare you insinuate that we are up to anything nefarious?"

"My lord, pray excuse the Lady of Knighton," Ada finally spoke up. It wouldn't do to allow the other woman to dig her own grave. "It has been an eventful night for all of us. I am certain she meant no disrespect." It seemed only right to protect someone who protected her.

"Is that so?" Vasei questioned, for one brief moment looking as if he might back away and leave them be. "You think you can fool me?" he hissed, grabbing Ada's upper arm. "A clue-no. And if ever I find you interfering with my plans again, it will be you who takes twenty lashes upon your back. As for you" he pointed to Marian, "one wrong move and you'll find yourself alone in this world. Have we an understanding?"

Not daring to oppose him again, Ada simply blinked back the shock of his words and nodded obediently. Better to have him think her docile and leave the threat undetected. Until this night she hadn't been sure what to make of her father's instructions. Now she knew she could not avoid it any longer. Left to his own devices Sheriff Vaisey would tear Nottingham apart. No doubt he also had more sinister plans than the torture of innocents. The fact that Prince John was here bore significance too. It became clearer and clearer that he trusted her uncle. She had to act, and may the Saints judge her if it was folly.

Pleased with his achievement, the Sheriff tapped Ada's cheek gently a couple of times then gave a snarl to Marian, before turning around and marching off, presumably to find other subjects to impose his will on. Guy watched stoically from behind him, no trace of the man who had held Ada to him present in his features. That brought to mind that she did need to be careful in his presence.

"Ever faithful to the Sheriff, aren't you, Guy?" Marian asked, her voice not one of mockery, but actual sadness. Her hand went to hold Ada's protectively, making the other woman stiffen. What exactly was Marian up to?

"I will thank you not to speak as if you knew me," Guy returned, acid dripping from those words. "And do remove your hand from the girl. It is unlikely that any unpleasantness will befall her." He sat himself on Ada's other side, stealthily brushing his arm to hers. To anyone looking it would have seemed an accident, both by its duration and the lack of familiarity intimated by such an act. Guy threw a long look to the other occupants of the room, wondering when it would all be over. His patience was wearing thin.

"Pray allow me leave," Marian said after a brief silence. "I must return to my father's side, now. My Lady of Carlisle, I am so glad to have met you." She bowed lightly.

"My privilege," Ada replied automatically, climbing to her feet to make the according bow. Marian left, Ada remained with Guy, both watching her walk away. What an interesting woman she was, Ada reflected, hands resting on her lap.

"What did she want?" Guy ventured when Marian was a safe distance away.

"To save me," Ada replied nonchalantly. It was rather comical, of course. Lady Marian thought she could offer her protection. "I think I understand now, why you keep her so close to your heart, Sir." It was hard, impossible even, not feel affection or admiration for the woman's vivacity and willingness to help. Ada could not deny that Marian was a nice woman, although she tended to involve herself in matters not pertaining to her.

"You're wrong. Lady Marian is nowhere near my heart," he defended himself. The last thing Guy wanted was for Ada to think him still in love with Marian and decide to act noble and let him go. He did not want to feel anything but indifference towards Marian.

"Oh, Guy," she sighed, curving her lips in a minute smile. "People talk, you know that." William had had no hesitation in uncovering what he'd heard about Guy's relationship with Marian. She knew, more or less, about what had transpired between the two of them. Ada brushed back a wisp of hair. Just because people talked it did not mean they said the truth. "But I, well, I trust you. After all, the one who knows best is you."

Generally outsiders knew too little and talked too much. Ada had long ago come to terms with the fact that some, if she were unkind she would have to say most, people opened their mouth without having facts to support their claims. That had made her wary of gossip and wary of people as a rule. They took such pleasure in the misfortune of others, although they expected sympathy when confronting with their own problems. What a tangle the human mind was, quick to judge, slow in forgiving; inevitably people made life harder than it was supposed to be! Still, not even she could deny the greatness of it all.

"What will you do with that woman?" came the unexpected question from her partner. Clearly he was in no mood to further discuss Marian or any feeling he might or might not have had for here.

"In the event that she does not die, I will support her in whatever choice she makes. I cannot imagine she'll want to remain here, but maybe she would oblige me and take a position in my father's household." That was as good a plan as any.

"You're entirely too generous," Guy protested. "You think she will be loyal to you. She is a peasant; they don't have even a trustworthy bone in them."

Shaken, Ada could not help but wonder what had shaped Guy's beliefs so. A modicum of suspicion was beneficial to anyone, yet the Sheriff and, sometimes, Guy exhibited a high level of mistrust, as if they believed the whole world had made it a prime goal to fool them somehow. Her uncle was the worse of the two, without a doubt, but perhaps his influence of Guy was too powerful for the man's own good.

"Mayhap she won't be devoted, as you say, but I have to give her a chance if I am to know." Secretly she hoped that the girl proved Guy wrong, if only to show him that life wasn't as dark as he viewed it.

Meanwhile deep in the Sherwood Forest Robin and his men lay around the fire, a bowl of stew for each. Strangely enough the Sheriff had not tried to retaliate, not had Prince John made any move that could be considered threatening. Even so, unease chocked the members of Hood's party. They had grown restless since their last meeting with the nobles of Nottingham.

"What are you thinking about, Robin?" Much had placed his food at the base of a tree, and looked after his pacing master. "You've been doing that for hours? Are you worried about Marian?"

The leader scoffed. "Marian is not a child that needs my constant supervision, Much." Still he would not stop pacing. "And I have other reasons to worry."

"What other reasons?" Djaq lifted her head from her bowl, her heavy accent flowing through the space. Will, sitting beside her, quirked a brow. He wasn't one for talking, and lately he had allowed Djaq to speak for him.

"Taxes," Allan offered with a mischievous grin. He leaned against the tree trunk, bringing his arms behind his head. "He also worries about taxes and how much he'll be able to take off of Vaisey. Isn't that so, Robin?"

"Exactly," the leader approved, earning a smile from most of his followers. "All those money go into financing Prince John's campaign for power. England is in peril. If only we could somehow take more than we usually do." And of course, all that money would go a long way to help the poor people of Nottingham.

"You mean to go to the castle?" Much was almost sent into a heart attack at the thought. "But there are guards and dogs and walls to climb. And I'm not even mentioning the traps that we are surely to encounter. Master Robin, think better of this, won't you?"

"Easy, Much." Will threw a stick in the fire, then wiping his hands against his trousers. "We've dealt with guards before, we can do it again. As for the dogs, we'll just throw them something to catch." His quiet assurance only served to disturb Much even further.

"Aye, our limbs!" Much cried out. It was unintentionally done, but the whole lot of them started laughing. Much out of desperation, the other purely for the comical value of their friend's outburst.

None of them believed they could fail, not with Robin. After so many losses on the Sheriff's side, how could he ever hope to defeat them? Nay, if they set out to take the money they would do so, dogs or no dogs, guards or no guards. Much, having calmed himself sufficiently, put all thought of walls-climbing and man-eating hounds out of his mind. Considering Robin's with more care he came to the conclusion that it accomplished nothing for him to worry. Like always they would pull through, aided by intelligence and that charming incompetence of the Sheriff's men.

"You should all get some sleep," Robin finally spoke. "Tomorrow we visit the Castle and get as much information as we can of the vault and what it contains." And rightly so, be they the greatest warriors they needed sleep in order efficiently accomplish what they had set out to do.

Using a pile of leaves to rest on, Robin turned his back to the fire and closed his eyes. Marian had returned to Nottingham after a long, in his opinion, absence and she hadn't had the sense to avoid Gisbourne. God knew the woman was more daring than she ought to be, playing with fire. One day, Robin feared that she would fall in the flames and burn herself. Guy wasn't the kind of person to forgive easily, if at all, and just this once the archer thought he could understand the motivation. That was not to say he agreed. Marian was, after all, the woman he loved; and he'd done so for any years. Yet love was not reason enough for one to cover their eyes to the faults in the other partner. Marian would eventually learn why she should not provoke Guy, Robin only hoped he would be able to protect her from Gisbourne's ire when the time cam for such to happen.

Closing his eyes, the young man drifted into an uneasy sleep, filled with visions of endless desert and the clang of swords meeting. Odd that such memories would remain buried until his body relaxed. Idly, he wondered if he was to forever be tortured by them, never free of the horrors of war, the sadness and destruction. Perhaps the Maker, in his mercy, would lift the burden.

Locksley Manor was at the time receiving back its master. Guy had taken his leave of the Castle and its residents in favour of his own. He also needed time to contemplate the turn of events and his own feelings. Just when he thought he had finally ridden himself of the crippling fondness he had for the previous Sheriff's daughter she came back, and he was hit by a rush of pent-up emotions.

This passion for Marian clashed with the desire he had for Ada. At a first glance it seemed easy enough to make a choice, however, delving deeper the knight came upon a tangle of feelings which he did not know how to make sense of. Why did he continue clinging to Marian? Why was he unwilling to give Ada up? The answers had hidden themselves from him, and he was blindly feeling his way through a maze of his own making.

Could it be that he wanted the unattainable more than he wanted Marian? Or was it just reflex, having courted the woman and nearly married her, that drove him to continue pursuing her? Perhaps it was his own pride that stopped him from moving past her. It was not worth it, Guy realised in a startling moment of clarity; if Marian did not love him now, she would not love him later. He had tried to win her heart, and though she'd seen there was some good in him, it hadn't been enough. And in the end, Guy had done all he could for her affections. Whether she reciprocated or not, it was her choice.

As for Ada, letting her in was a double edged sword. She was young and beautiful and seemingly innocent. Guy had learned that appearances did not always coincide with substance. While he had chosen to ignore it, he knew all too well that behind her face, deep down into her soul she had her own secrets. Whatever those secrets were, they did not pose a threat to his plans for her, so he thought that he would let them slide.

Once she was his wife, he would find out what he wanted to know. In fact, Guy would make sure that she knew exactly what he expected from her in her role as his spouse. He would not have a second Marian; one debacle was quite enough to last him a lifetime, possibly two. No, he would demand her honesty, and she would have his. Otherwise they would be just two strangers occasionally sharing a bed, and for that Guy needn't bother with searching. Hadn't Annie been juts that, a bed warmer of sort, easily discarded, easily replaced?

Seth had been the only good think to come out of that affair. Which brought to mind the incident that had taken place not too long ago. Guy had to wonder if word of his supposed abandoning of his son had reached Ada. Likely not, for she'd been not chanced in her behaviour. But Guy hadn't left the child out to die. He had actually paid a man to take the boy to a monastery, and had found Annie work in a village away from Nottingham, so she could start her life over; find her own place in the world. The blame was not his, only the foolishness. He'd thought he could discreetly send both away, yet he'd been betrayed by the man whom he'd tasked to take the child. No matter, the fiend had been caught and taken care of, but a rumour once started did not easily bear extinction.


	10. Chapter 10

Much like a child would watch for sign of anger in their parents, Ada paid close attention to the Sheriff and the Prince. The older man had given her a scathing look when he first saw her in the morning. The Prince, however, was all smiles. Disconcerted as she was, Ada did not allow it to show. She drew strength from the carriage standing in front of them all. The Prince would be gone and soon.

"It is that frown upon your face, my lady; it could drive some poor knight to madness. A smile I beg of you, just one smile to see me safely to London." His exaggerated manner did not fail to win him the smile he kept asking of her. "I've done all humanly possible to see it." Prince John did not fail to remind her of the favour he'd done her by releasing that peasant woman in her care.

Emily, Ada had learned the woman was called, would live. The previous night, after she had left the celebrating, Ada had gone to the servant quarters to look in of the poor wretch she'd brought in. Thankfully the other servants had done her bidding, and one of them who knew a bit about plants and ointments patched her back up. Emily would live, aye; but there was a good chance she would never get over the trauma. Ada had washed the woman's forehead with her handkerchief and said a prayer for her. She was in the hands of God.

"Your kindness humbles me, Your Highness," the young woman replied, folding her hands demurely in her lap."I shall pray for you to have a save journey." And a speedy one at that. It would have also pleased her greatly in he refrained for visiting at least for a few good years. Ada bowed gently, evading what could have become an awkward situation when she saw the glint in the Prince's eyes. "Fare thee well."

Vaisey pushed her aside and saw the Prince to the interior of his carriage. What was said between the two of them Ada couldn't hear, nor did she care to. Instead she sought Guy out from the corner of her eye. He had stayed behind, his rank not allowing him to step with them. But when their eyes met he smiled at her, a short stretch of lips, barely perceptible and not nearly long enough to be anything but fleeting. But all was well. It was, after all, such moments that she thought about when in the seclusion of her own rooms. Young and foolish and very much in love, that was what she was and somehow she couldn't summon the regret she knew she ought to feel at this deplorable state she had fashioned her way into. Ada own lips curled in a response, a tiny wave of something fluttering inside of her. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest and the blood, she could hear the blood rushing through her veins.

Dragging herself out of the stupor, Ada turned away. She looked to see her uncle was only then beginning to face them and her face fell into a neutral expression. His face which had been up until that point pleasant turned into a thundering cloud. "You," he hissed advancing upon his niece. "Do you realise what your foolishness could have cost us?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you dare look at me so, you ingrate!" His tirade did not stop there. It took a long time for Vaisey to forward all of his complaints against her transgression, yet Ada could feel her mind slipping. When she finally managed to summon her attention back upon the man, her uncle's face resembled a red apple. "Gisbourne, take the damn woman to her chambers and if I see so much as a hair of her or her servant you may have them both beaten."

To be sure, he was being crueller than his usual self. However, Ada supposed she had tempted the beast. She bowed her head in feigned obedience. Guy took her arm roughly, not enough to cause her injury, but enough for her uncle to let out a gruff curse and be on his way. Pretending to carry out his orders, Guy pulled Ada along, his hold softening. "Don't make trouble for me," he warned her playfully. "Follow like a good lady and I'll see to it that you are well-treated."

"I already am," Ada breathed roughly with the effort of keeping up with his pace. "Sir, you walk too fast." Her accusation was met with a hastening of his pace, making her almost run to catch him. Her skirts, having not been made to allow her such acts, twisted around her legs, making her falter.

Guy caught her before she could take a fall. She was small and light and utterly delicious with her affronted look. It shouldn't have appalled him to want to comport himself in a roguish manner and steal her lips in the plain sight of all, Guy had committed so many other heinous acts. What was kissing her to those? Especially when he had done so on other occasions too. "We'd best be gone, my lady." He released her, his heart jolting. "We must see that you are properly contained. Else you and I, we shall never hear the end of it, my dear." Guy knew all too well that lingering would make him more susceptible to bending to those desires that even then whispered wickedly in his ear.

"Are you not glad?" Ada's voice drifted to him through his haze. He watched her with a hint of confusion. "Are you not glad that the Prince has finally left?" For her it was a burden lifted. She did not need to watch her every step and school her features when turning around the corner and pray, pray that she would not meet the sardonic smiles and mock-kind tones of Prince John.

"The walls have ears, my lady," Guy reminded her gently. He was not in the habit of protecting others. Even less so women who were more dangerous than they looked. But with the constant reminder that this particular woman was his, he could do no else.

"There are some rumours going around, sir." Her words were spoken as soon as they had reached her chambers. Discreetly she motioned him in, the braid on her shoulder slipping away.

"Are there?" he questioned, stepping over the threshold. He curbed the impulse to touch her hair. "What sort of rumours are those, then?" Vasey's domain was treacherous, its rumours most likely traps.

The last time he had been here, in her rooms, it was without a proper invitation. That visit had been prompted by curiosity and suspicion alike. The innocence she exhibited was convincing enough, but Guy had learned that appearances were rarely what they seemed. More so in the case of women. Sure enough, Ada did not seem to want much; she did not seem dangerous. It should have soothed him, the knowledge. It should have made it all so much easier.

Yet she had come between the Prince and his prey. She had stood up to a man who could have just as easily decided not to be amused by her display. Prince John could have chosen to punish her. It said something of her when she opposed a man feared even by his own mother. Indeed, if the Queen Mother truly knew of her youngest son's plots and schemes, she was likely huddled somewhere in a nunnery praying the boy wouldn't find her. However, his point was that the girl in front of him needed to be made aware of the dangers she faced.

"I have heard that we are to have another illustrious guest in my uncle's home." The way she said it made it clear just what was her opinion of her uncle's connections. Guy held back a smile and bid her continue. "Some German Count he plans to charm with the beauty of our English countryside."

"You needn't worry that he will call upon you to entertain this guest also." Indeed not. This time Vasey's plans were a bit grander. "The German Count is a man of particular tastes, Ada. The Sheriff is convinced that a more spirited lady should have the honour of partnering the Count."

"Oh dear. Do I even wish to know who the unfortunate soul is?" Her theatrics stole a smile from Guy, which was about all Ada had wanted at the moment. She could already guess who the woman would be. Lady Marian had sealed her own fate. To be sure, Vasey would not allow her to refuse, and the poor girl would be caught in the trap. "And you are not bothered?"

"Not at all," Guy assured her. He walked closer to her, carefully stirring them away from the high window. "So long as I may have your attention." It pleased him not to have to share. He would rather that Vasey excluded his niece from the plan, but that was not possible.

Ada, for her part, was not highly concerned with the count and whether or not he would find her company pleasant. Very few men interested her enough beyond a surface examination. Guy was a notable exception, and if she was true to herself Robin Hood was another. That was not to say that she harboured any feelings towards the blond. Not at all. It was simply intriguing. The rivalry between him and Guy was talked about in dark corners. Ada could not help being interested.

It helped that the thief had been so gallant. One could tell for a certainty that he came of noble lineage, or that at the very least he had had an education worthy of a nobleman. Robin of Locksley. The name rang in her head. The details were unknown to her, yet the fact that a noble would hole up in the woods with a pack of peasants only served to get her mind reeling. This had the making of a great story. A story which she was fortunate enough to be part of. Ada twined her fingers around Guy's.

"What about Robin Hood?" she asked. Ada could feel Guy freeze. She looked up in his eyes, the cold blue drowning her.

"What about Robin Hood?" Guy spat, pulling away from her. He started pacing the floor. "If he so much as dares to make an appearance I'll skewer him."

She didn't even blink at the violence. Ada was privately astonished at the fact that he could carry so much hatred for another. She doubted it all stemmed from their rivalry over the affections of the same woman. Nay, Marian could not have caused this. Perhaps she fuelled the rage, but be the cause of it, no. There had to be a reason. Guy could not even bare to have the man's name mentioned.

"I am certain it will not come to that," Ada murmured absently, trying to find a way to calm Guy. It hadn't been her intention to bring about his ire.

But his suspicion had already been woken. Guy glanced at her. What had Hood said to her in the woods? Had he tried to seduce her? Guy fumed at the mere idea. Christ's bones! He would kill Robin Hood the next time the scoundrel crossed his path.

"Why would you want to have him safe?" he demanded, grabbing her elbow, this time nothing mocking about his grip.

She stared at him with wide, confused eyes. "He could fall in the deepest pits of hell for all I care," Ada declared, despite it not being quite true. She had a certain budding fondness for the thief, or rather a curiosity more than genuine affection. "The one I wish safe is you."

One thing that could not be denied was that Hood was good with a weapon. Guy would know. Ada's words did not calm him much. He needed more. He needed proof. After all, Marian had been all promises too, hadn't she? And when he trusted her, she struck him.

"You needn't worry, my lady. I am capable of defeating the likes of Hood." Yet until now he hadn't done so. The thought rand mockingly in his mind, irritating him further. Hell and damnation!

He needed to get away. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. Away from wide, trusting eyes and tempting smiles. Without so much as a word, he released Ada in a chair and stormed out, leaving behind a bewildered face. Aye, he needed peace.

Left to her own devices once more, Ada contemplated silently the events that had taken place. But without all the facts she could hardly form a valid opinion of anything. For the time being she would let it rest, but Ada was quite decided upon finding out the truth. At the very least one problem had been solved. That of her conscience over causing someone's death. Ada toyed with the cross at her neck. She could not avoid writing to her father any longer. She had the proof she needed and it was time to set the plan in motion.

Sherriff Vasey was a despicable man. He did not deserve to be called a human being. Even worse, he was corrupting everything around him. It hadn't escaped her notice that the man loved money above anything else, perhaps with the exception of making others suffer. Gold and agony pleased him like nothing else in the world ever could. One way or another, he had to be eliminated. If she was chosen as the instrument, Ada supposed she could do little but obey. Aye, she would poison the wine he drank, and she would be almost happy to do so.

But Ada would not do it for the king. Political ambitions were very far from her mind and thoughts. Politics was the domain of men. She wanted no part in that. She was doing it for the people, people like Emily, forced to suffer in thrall to men like Vasey. Men whose mercy was as sharp as their ire, if not more so. She would poison her uncle. She would kill a man, and she would take comfort in the knowledge that all had been done for the greater good. Ada only hoped it would be enough to assuage the guilt.

"May God have mercy on my soul," she prayed, crossing herself. Ada doubted she was the first of her family to take part in such plots, but she dearly hoped that in the future there would be no further need for such plans.

The small casket of her table drew her attention involuntarily. All her jewellery. All her poison-filled rings and necklaces. She did not doubt her father had sent enough powder to incapacitate a whole army. Poison and sweet smiles. How had she managed to land herself in such a position? How would she extricate herself from it?

Ada grew slowly aware of the fact that she would have to start placing small amounts of the powder in her uncle's drink and food soon. It would be no easy task. Vasey was distrustful of everything and everyone. Women especially, it would seem. She needed to proceed with all due caution. And, of course, there was the small matter of Guy.

Her own foolish heart had gotten entangles with his. Even more, she had promised to marry him. No doubt her position as his wife would afford her a needed cover, and protection, and perhaps insight into her uncle's plans. But these points did not matter at all. For when she did wed him, it would be her heart she gave.

Her father would not have approved. He had raised a clever girl, and had always taken the time to remind her that the best thinking was done with the head and not the heart. Ada could almost hear him scolding her. A smile grew on her face, it was a tentative attempt. She had her smiles, she would have a marriage and she would do her duty. That was that, and no more could be said of it.

Yet what should happen if her prospective husband discovered her plans? Would Guy believe her when she professed her love then? Without doubt it would look like betrayal, and in a sense of the words it was betrayal. She came with hidden intentions and plans made under the cover of darkness. Guy was not a forgiving soul. He would curse her. He would possibly kill her. He would probably divorce her. Between death and divorce, Ada was unsure which was worse. Doubt filled her again. She needed to write to her father. He would tell her what was the best way to proceed.

In the meantime, Guy would have to be kept in the dark awhile longer. Having succeeded for some time now, Ada thought she could do so until her father's reply came. If only her problems would be solved with more ease. Had she been a peasant girl, she would not have all these decisions to make. But then again, she would have little besides the clothes on her back and the whip of her master to caress her, she was sure. Batter to have unpleasant decisions to make, she thought, an image of Emily fashing in her mind.

Taking out a parchment of good quality, Ada searched around for her quill. The ink was where she remembered it to be, thankfully. She would never understand how her possessions moved around the room without her knowledge. Ada finally found the elegant writing instrument in one of the drawers and heaved a sigh.

Unlike other times, she found writing an easier exercise. Worries and words poured out of her on paper. A plea for help. A cry for mercy. She needed a reason to justify her actions; she needed a voice firmer than her own to give her said motive. And if her father could not convince her of the necessity of her actions, then no one else could. Ada had never known a more persuasive man. He would make it clear to her what she should do, and he would make it so her belief in their cause would be unshakable. Ada trusted that. She trusted the man to make a good, right choice.

The soft scratch of quill on paper filled the room. Ada took comfort in the sound, The cross at her throat felt by turn heavy and light, ever changing as were her thoughts.


End file.
